Happy 35th, Steve Nash

This is an article I found on ESPN.com...

Happy 35th, Steve Nash
By Marc SteinESPN.com(Archive)

Friday marked the one-year anniversary of the Phoenix Suns' trade for Shaquille O'Neal.

Saturday is Steve Nash's 35th birthday.

You can safely assume that the celebrations for both occasions were on the humble side.

There simply isn't a lot of happiness in the desert these days. Not with the Suns following the Arizona Cardinals' Super Bowl heartbreak by fading anew into chaos, prompting Suns management to explore the team's options for multiple changes before the Feb. 19 trading deadline, all of which is happening with much of the NBA world soon to descend upon Phoenix for All-Star Weekend.

Nash didn't even make the West All-Stars for the first time since he went back to the team that drafted him, which only adds to the Suns' public suffering, but he did consent to discussing several pertinent topics in a chat with ESPN.com that originally was intended to commemorate his birthday milestone.

Here's Nash on:

How he feels his body is holding up at 35:

"I feel great. I'm definitely more 'experienced.' But mentally and physically, I don't feel like I've changed that much. I feel just as capable as ever.

"And I think there are some positive changes as you get older. I'm a more accurate shooter. I'm better going both ways. I probably have more skills than I did five years ago.

"… I'm still planning to play three more years. Maybe in a few years, if I'm not playing at a high level, I'll have to re-evaluate that, but hopefully I can keep playing 'til I'm 38."

His current frustration level with the Suns' plight:

"It's been the toughest year of my career. By far.

"I went through some things early in my career in Dallas that were tough personally, but no one was really expecting us to do anything back then. The expectations weren't great like they are here in Phoenix, so this has been a lot tougher. … We've just been talking and talking and talking, and we can't seem to find the answers for how to make it work."

Whether he now sees major changes, such as the exit of Amare Stoudemire, as inevitable before the Feb. 19 trading deadline:

"We'll see. If we don't turn the corner soon, this franchise has every right to go in another direction.

"I can see why people say that [it's time to start rebuilding]. We have an older team, so if there are moves to be made that are better for the long term, I can totally understand why they would go in that direction.

"I still want things to improve for this mix of players, but, like I said, I haven't been able to find the answers."

His statistical drop this season from 16.9 points and 11.1 assists per game to 14.0 points and 9.6 assists:

"With our group of guys, everybody needs the ball. So I think part of it is that I've tried to accommodate all of our scorers.

"It kind of reminds me of my last year in Dallas. I was kind of over-accommodating at the beginning because we [traded for Antawn] Jamison and [Antoine] Walker.

"But I also think it's pretty obvious that if you're only taking nine, 10 shots a game, you're not going to score as much as you used to. I don't want to sound super defensive, but I think I've tried to sacrifice for the good of the team."

Charges that the numbers that helped him win two MVP awards wouldn't have been possible if he hadn't been playing in Mike D'Antoni's free-wheeling offense:

"There might be some validity to that. There are more possessions in his games, [there is] more spacing, more opportunities for guys who are skilled and smart. Having a chance to play for him took my career to another level.

"But I also feel like I should be able to adapt to any system. I played in a few All-Star Games before I played for Mike. I think my scoring numbers would be the same [as in previous seasons] if I was taking a few more shots."

The one-year anniversary of the trade for Shaq and where the Suns are now:

"I felt it was a gamble we had to take. With Shawn [Marion], as good as he was physically, we were just way too small as a team. The Lakers would just throw the ball up on the rim with [Lamar] Odom, [Pau] Gasol, [Andrew] Bynum, and it was like volleyball [for them]. "

"The challenge for us is that we still haven't found that balance on offense between going in to Shaq and finding that spacing and movement that everyone else needs."

Whether he ever second-guesses the decision to leave Dallas and best friend Dirk Nowitzki to return to the Suns when he was 30 and Nowitzki was 26:

"I think it would have been great. I know it would have been great, but how much time can you spend looking back? We've already played two-thirds of the time [apart] that we played together."

The theory that he and Nowitzki needed to go their separate ways to reach their full potential:

"I think we [got better in the years apart], but I don't think it's because we split up. Maybe a little bit, but I feel like I've improved almost every year of my career.

"Maybe people looked at that last year in Dallas and said, 'He's done, he's slowing down, he's going to break down.' But I went into that summer [of 2004] after losing in the first round extremely motivated to overcome that.

"I worked my tail off and made big improvements to my game and my [conditioning]. Those improvements were going to come whether I played for Phoenix or Dallas."

The possibility of reuniting with D'Antoni in New York or going home to Canada with Toronto as a 2010 free agent:

"Like I always say, my first priority is finishing my career here in Phoenix. If it came to the point that they break up our team or it's time to look elsewhere, obviously there would be worse places to go than Toronto or New York. I have connections to both places, on and off the floor.

Whether he'll consider the Suns' offer to sign an extension this summer to keep him from reaching free agency:

"All I can say right now is that I look forward to that conversation."

The prospect of retiring with those MVP awards but no championships:

"I would still look back on a great career. Not everybody can win it all, and not everybody can win as many games as I've been fortunate enough to win in my career.

"I feel like I've given it a hell of an effort. If it turns out that I wasn't good enough to win a championship or the teams I was on weren't good enough … if people want me to hold up my hand and say that's my bad, my responsibility, that's no problem. I'm giving it everything I have, so I can't really worry too much about what other people think.

"My No. 1 goal in basketball is to win a championship. No. 2 is to have fun and improve every year and enjoy my teammates."

Marc Stein is the senior NBA writer for ESPN.com. To e-mail him, click here.

Readers Block

Some of you have been wondering why I haven't put up a new post in a while. Actually, I just made that up because no one has inquired at all... Now, some of you are going to respond to this post saying, "Yeah, Bart, I was wondering." Or, "Sorry Bart, I just had twins." Or, "Sorry Bart I just broke up with my girlfriend." Or "Sorry Bart, I've been really busy blogging and then reading the comments on my blog." Don't give me your pity and don't give me your excuses. Excuses are for the weak. And I shalln't be happy with you.

(And yes, I just said shalln't... that's a contraction. If you take Shall and Not and put them together you get shalln't. Common knowledge. Anyone with a 5th grade reading level knows that. And if you're not yet in 5th grade... you shouldn't be reading my blog, it definitely isn't appropriate for innocent minds. In fact, you shouldn't even be on the internet. What do YOU have to do on the internet? You're eleven. Go play with G.I. Joes, get muddy, and break some windows.)

Sidenote: I'm seriously going to be the coolest dad.

I've had a serious case of writers block. My usual free-flowing genius in my saggital suture (yes, the noun) has been replaced by some idiot who decided he likes to worry about life. So I decided to write about not being able to write. Ironic? I think so.

My writing process usually goes like this:
1) Toss and turn sleeplessly for hours while my brain fumbles accross meaningless ideas and scenarios and topics.
2) Flip on my reading lamp and scramble exhaustedly for a scrap piece of paper and a pen.
3) Scribble whatever nonsense entered my head or is now entering my head as I lick the pen tip for more ink.
4) The next day, sort through the chicken scratch and find some way to connect it all.

Then I post it for everyone's enjoyment. Then, sometimes, I re-read what I wrote and realize that no one in their right mind would enjoy this and that I am wasting precious moments of time that you, and I, will never get back. Then sometimes I re-read it just so I can say I doubley wasted extra precious moments of time. And then I realize I enjoy it.

Run through a Forest... Run!

Everyone these days say they like to run… but I’m a little skeptical. It’s supposedly the way to ‘recharge’, ‘connect with nature’, or ‘get away’. But I’m really not seeing how you can do any of those things with jabbering earbuds and a portable jukebox strapped to your arm. If you like to run so much, why do you need music?

I argue that running and running with music are two different things. Is running really that boring that you have to fill your already cluttered mind with guitar riffs and clean vocals? Whatever happened to the all-natural distractions: the sound of your sneakers pounding the pavement, the slightly blurred, bouncing landscape, the yells from the passenger windows of passerbyers?

The last time I ran just to run… September. My distance: 2.1 miles. My time: probably longer than 20 minutes. (I’ll admit I stopped to walk for a block… it was somewhere in-between mile one and mile two.) Overall it was a nice run. No U2 in my ears. I really felt like I could focus on my form and concentrate on my breathing. (There’s no way I would have noticed my wheezing, coughing, or gasping otherwise.) But I can only handle myself talking to myself for so long… I realize now that I get kinda annoying after about 15 minutes. That’s when I knew it was time to head home. Well, that and the death-cramp in my left calf.

But honestly, I like to run… if there is some sort of ball involved. Volleyball, croquette, foosball. (Yeah, you just try and play foosball without your heart jumping out of your chest. Really good exercise.) I just feel like there’s some purpose if there’s a ball involved. Think about this: you find a random guy running down the street with his Ipod in, then give him a football and put a 6’5” 240 pound linebacker behind him… you just watch him pick up the pace on that mile split.

Another confession: I did run track in high school. That’s a sport that is almost worse than cross country. Not only do you have to run, but you have to run in circles. Like a dog chasing his tail. I remember my coach wanted me to run the 800m. That’s half a mile, two laps around the track. My response, “But coach, I already saw everything the first time around.” The farthest I ever ran was 400m, one lap. In track, this is the farthest distance one can run before being bored to tears.

But I was good at my lap. I was so good I came in last place at the State finals. That’s right… dead last. Now, 51 seconds is pretty fast… but 48 seconds is faster. I also ran the 100m high hurdles and the 300m intermediate hurdles. Why? I have no idea. (I blame Willie and Bret. I should have done pole vault with Russ.) I fell more times than Steve Urkel. It was like I had a magnet secretly inserted behind my knee cap. It was exhausting, falling down and then getting up.

I should have played soccer.

Christmastime was here

So I've been getting complaints from a select few followers of my blog (who shall remain nameless: Tricia). These anonymous fans have made clear their disconent of the impersonal nature of the content contained herein. So... here's me... personalizing.


This is (in order of appearance) cuz Alisa, Uncle Dave, ME and Aunt Steph in a yearly ritual of 'One-on-One Hoops'. It's a card game that is played like the real game of basketball. (It is also known as 'Church Ball'.) My Uncle Dave (the one in the red shirt) invented it. Yeah we still can't believe he actually thought of something. Anyways... notice the smiles on my and Alisa's face.


Well... unfair Uncle Dave put in a sub in the second half. They made a furious come-back... and he nailed a three at the buzzer to win the game. Needless to say (and honestly, I'd really rather not say it...) we were stunned.



My widdle Bubsy and I got matching Santa tatoos. (They're not gay.)


And I'm not sure why we're laughing. But this is what happens during the traditional White Elephant gift exchange.

I then arm wrestled my Aunt Peggy. There is no need to inform my readers of the identity of the winner.

I soon thereafter cut my hair (and my bangs... haha Janet).

This week we had a 'The Office' party. I am Jim.

This is the rest of the crew.

So I've made an executive decision (because I do that when I blog) and I will update this post until I no longer feel the need. EnJoY!

BYU's 'Heads-up' Coaching

The following post is rated PG-13. It is not suitable for readers under the age of "I-think-BYU-sports-are-the-best-in-the-Nation". If you believe such non-sense... stop reading. Reader discression is advised. ... Seriously. You might cry.

Now that all that political correctness is out of the way... I've been waiting some time to write this. But as the new year is upon us... I shall wait no longer. (It's kind of a new years resolution. Oh and the title of this post almost symbolic. Or maybe I just confused the word 'symbolic' with the word 'graphic'.)

Let's start with the BYU Men's Basketball team. Dave Rose has done a good job with this club. They love to run in transition and can shoot three's like it's nobody's business. But you know what they say... live by the three... die by the three. They aren't going to be able to rely on the trey-ball all year, and they don't really have anyone to go to inside. Their big guys play okay defense, but are not a factor in the offense. This is going to be a problem come tournament time. Oh and by the way, good job convincing Trent Plaisted to stay for his senior year instead of declaring NBA draft eligibility. Smart move. (That last little bit was completely sarcastic. Plaisted, who averaged almost 16 pts 8 reb, is in Europe somewhere, lost in basketball detention.)

So I've been to a few games and overall the team is exciting to watch. A lot of energy, steals, and three pointers. But Coach Rose is anything but classy. Usually when you're up 20 points with a couple minutes left in the game, you put in your scrubs, your reserves, your benchwarmers. Not Coach Rose. Okay, so maybe 20 isn't as 'safe' as it used to be. But 30+, yeah, now you can put in the freshmen to finish out the game. Not Coach Rose. Well, how about 40+... you're as safe as you can get, right? Up 40 with 5 minutes to go? Not Coach Rose.

Against Rice, Weber State, and Boise State, Coach Rose left his starters in almost the whole game. These guys were still running and gunning, bombing threes and throwing alley-oops. The average margin of victory: 34 points. That's right. The opposition will remember the day they played the Cougars. Stay classy Coach Rose.

Now, lets change gears here. I think the BYU Football team's motto for next year should be 'Quest to fire Bronco Mendenhall'. Only 3 big games this year and they lost every one of them. All the blame goes to him for the shelacking TCU gave them... and after a byeweek... seriously Bronco? What are you concentrating on for those two weeks prior? Firesides?

The Utah game wasn't all Mendenhall's fault. Max Hall had the worst game of his career with 5 INTs and a fumble. But after the third interception you'd think Bronco would realize Max wasn't up to the task. As a coach, you want to show your team you trust your guy... but Bronco should have shown some sort of fire, some sort of indication that that game was important. Chew him out. Throw your headset. Do something for crying out loud! Football players feed off each other. They're like a pack of rabid velosa raptors. But if Mama raptor is indifferent on whether they have chicken fried stegasaurus or beer battered triceratops, then the baby raptors won't care either! In other words, passion is an admirable quality in a leader.

Now the AZ game. Yay for the Las Vegas Bowl, again. ... Awesome. We just lost to a 7-5 football team... oh wait 8-5, my bad. BYU was complaining all year that they weren't getting enough love from ESPN and the BCS. We would have been DESTROYED by any other ranked team. How do I know this? Because we just got owned by Arizona.

Give AZ credit. They're a good team. Us getting pounded by them means we're less than good. It probably didn't help BYU any that Max Hall, Austin Collie, and Dennis Pitta were playing pick-up ball on campus during the few weeks before the 'Big Game'. (I played with Max and am convinced he made a smart move by choosing football over basketball.) But honestly, Bronco, that's a smart coaching move: "Yeah, guys... go play basketball on campus with all the washed-up married guys, 18 year old spazzes, and uncoordinated exchange students. Don't worry about the fact that our next game is nationally sponsored and that if we win we all get Nintendo Wii's for the 3rd year in a row. Just don't get hurt." (Did anyone notice Dennis Pitta's knee injury? Wonder how that happened?) Enjoy your Nintendo Wii's Wildcats!

And seriously... he named his kids Breaker, Raider, and Cutter. Some might call that cute, I'd call it child abuse.

It Snowed.

Bailey: We made a balloon that was supposed to be you today... just fyi.

Bart: That's awesome... did I have my book and nametag too?

Bailey: Nope... well, I guess technically you did have your name tag. We put a peice of paper on the balloon that said 'Bart'.

Bart: So, you're saying I got partial attendance points?

B: I'm gonna guess that, no, not only did you not get partial points, but that you probably got negative.

B: So... I did get points?

B: Sure. Negative ones, but sure.

B: Awesome! Hey points are points no matter how you look at 'em.

B: Well, not really. Negative points would actually count against you and... oh nevermind. But you seem like you'd be into negative things so thats right up your alley.

B: Oh yeah... well... Watch out! I might be up your alley tonight... wearing all black while swinging a billy club in my hand.

Bailey: Is that a sexual inuendo? I hope so.

Bart: A six-paned window? wha..?

Bailey: No. An in-u-end-o. Oh, forget it. I'm off to meet with a group for school...you remember school right? Where you study to get grades to pass college and get a degree? Yep, I'm off to do that. See you later... in my alley.

Oh. One more thing. I'm always worried you'll post more of our conversations in your blog. So if you do, please mention that I am extremely attractive. For the hell of it.

Bart: You're extremely attractive.

Bailey: No, not now. When you write your blog. Ugh... I give up.

A Ninja in Embryo

My know-it-all-roommate Dan and I have funny conversations. (To find out more about Dan, please click the 'Dan' label at the bottom of this post.) Sometimes they're really funny. But mostly they're a complete waste of time, kind of like this blog. Sometimes when I'm upstairs and he's downstairs we'll chat screen-to-screen rather than face-to-face.

Dan: Holy cow, I want a ninja sword. You should come watch this Time Warp. Hurry. They are going to chop pig flesh.

Bart: What in the world makes you think I want to watch pig flesh chopping?

Dan: 'Cause it is awesome! Holy cow! It cut clean through the bone!

Bart: Don't you mean holy sow?

Dan: Wow. He chopped a raw egg without cutting the yoke. I am so getting a sword. I have often needed to chop a raw egg without damaging the yoke and have never had the proper tool...

Bart: ...or skills.

D: Whatever. I am obviously a ninja.

B: Just because you have a ninja sword doesn't mean you have ninja skills. And vice versa.

D: Ping pong skills translate directly to sword swinging... and ninja skills.

B: Which translate directly to killing skills?

D: Well... yes, but I wouldn't need to do any killing with my sword. That's what handguns are for.

B: But what about embryonic chicken feti?

(feti is the plural for fetus. Other examples of this type of pluralization include but are not limited to the following: focus-foci, radius-radii, cactus-cacti, octupus-octupi, alumnus-alumni, platypus-platupi, fungus-fungi, hippopotamus-hippopotami, preying mantis-preying manti, mattress-mattri, Barticus-Barticai, etc.)

D: They are already dead from the cryonics.

B: They are already crying from the death.

D: Well... stuff happens. I'm done bugging you now.

B: Good. Because I'm done letting you bug me.