• Basketball
• Feelings
• Claps

Everybody Clap Your Hands is written and produced by Cory Zanoni.

What to expect

• Spirited championing of players you don’t care about (yet).
• Ways to make mascots more fuckable.
• Treatises on which screens are hot or not.
• General celebrations of basketball being great.

Basically, the NBA, the WNBA and the things in basketball that bring joy.

There will be no: award discussions (unless I make the awards up), legacy chat, highlight reels.

Here’s the thing. Two of my favourite basketball podcasts ever are Spinsters (RIP) and Flagrant. Everyone involved with those pods is wildly cooler than me. But. I aspire to their level of whimsy and smarts.

No boring bullshit. Just fun bullshit.

This might be for you if…

• There’s a fringe rotation player on your team that you’ll never give up on, even when they move to Europe.
• You screenshot posts from r/nba to send to the group chat because you want to talk about it but ain’t no way you’re posting on Reddit.
• You’ve spent at least five minutes thinking about “getting into basketball cards” but realised you simply cannot become that person yet.

About Cory

I was a defence-first wing and two-time team MVP for my truly awful basketball club as a teenager. Now I’m a content strategist living in Melbourne, Australia.

A few other things: I’ve hosted a podcast about videogames and trying to be a better person, taught and lectured about making stuff online, and I have the world’s most handsome cat. (My other cat is also handsome, just less so.)

Speed dating

I was inspired to start this blog, in part, by the fantastic Spinsters podcast. In their first ep, hosts Haley O’Shaughnessy and Jordan Ligons did some basketball speed dating to introduce themselves to their listeners. Let’s do the same here.

• Sign: Taurus.
• Favourite basketball moment: Manu Ginobli blocking James Harden to win Game 5 of the 2017 Playoff semifinals.
• Irrational basketball opinion: NBA games are too long and optimised for litigiousness, not flow. I want 10 minute quarters, half the timeouts, no reviews. 
• Player I was wrong about: Nikola Mirotic. I thought he’d be decent (and also not be the one who left the NBA after Bobby Portis clocked him in a Bulls practice).
• My teams: NBA: San Antonio Spurs. WNBA: Las Vegas Aces

Cory elsewhere

• coryzanoni.com
• Bluesky

At its best, the game flows without stoppages. I once watched a magical game that went almost ten minutes without a break, foul or timeout. Spectacular.

That’s what we deserve. What we have is  mandatory TV timeouts so broadcasters can run more ads. We’ve strayed too far from Kareem’s light.

Thankfully, when I’m god-king of the universe, my power will be unchained from the brutish requirements of capitalism. I’ll change the NBA however I please.

I just want good basketball

All of my changes unfurl from three assumptions:

1. The goal of the NBA is to create a free-flowing game winnable by on-court skill and strategy.
2. Offence and defence should be treated equally wherever possible.
3. Breaking the rules should never give someone an advantage.

There’s also two overarching principles that should only be broken when necessary:

1. The game doesn’t stop.
2. The clock doesn’t stop.

Put another way…

Don’t waste anyone’s time

A 48 minute game shouldn’t take 2.5 hours to broadcast. The final 2 minutes of a game shouldn’t stretch across 10 real minutes. That shit is going into a nice, efficient bin.

We’ll get two easy wins out of the way right now:

• Ten minute quartets (for a 40 minute game).
• Game tip-off when they’re supposed to tip off.

I know the first one is controversial and has been discussed at length. I don’t care. I’m god-king. We’ll use the time saved to broadcast starting line-up introductions.

Here’s the flow: broadcast starts, we get a bit of schmatter to set-up key points of the game, starting line-up intros, tip off.

That’s it. We ball.

The final two minutes

Let’s unwind purgatory.

The last two minutes of a close game should be the most electric, tense part of the game. Instead, it’s often like crawling through a trench someone dug to fix a leaking septic tank.

It’s just a flood of intentional fouls, free throws, reviews and time outs designed to turn an electric, back-and-forth sport into a tedious chess match where the grandmasters can’t actually move the pieces.

I, bravely and heroically, say “no” to all that.

First, the rules won’t change during the last two minutes. Right now, two key rules change in the last two minutes of a half just to fuck with things:

1. You can inbound the ball into the backcourt after a timeout (which would ordinarily be a backcourt violation).
2. The “second foul of the last two minutes leads to free throws” rule kicks in.

We’re scrapping both. If you can’t inbound without pelting the ball backwards so your guard can go for a jog then, bad luck, buddy. Execute.

The “second foul” thing just punishes teams that didn’t foul up to that point. If you go into the end game with only 2 fouls compared to your opponent’s 4, that’s an advantage you deserve to play out.

Speaking of fouls, let’s get into it.

No-one will like my foul calls

I don’t like watching free throws. They’re dull. And fouling someone while they’re shooting shouldn’t be an advantage.¹

Therefore, all free throws will be:

• One shot.
• Worth 2 points on a 2-pointer attempt, taken from the free throw line.
• Worth 3 points on a 3-pointer attempt, taken from the top of the arc.
• Worth 1 point on an and-1, taken from the free throw line.
• Worth 1 point, taken from the free throw line, after an intentional foul – and the team keeps possession.

You can see how that last one plays into my last-two-minutes changes, right?

Taken together, those changes would make free throws wildly faster and limit the benefit of shooting fouls overall.

They would, however, make free throws more valuable and thus encourage more infuriating foul baiting.

These changes would be combined with an overall rebalancing of officiating. Defenders would be entitled to their space as much as offensive players; if a shooter initiates contact by jumping into the defender, that’s a foul on them. (Even if a defender bites on a pump fake, in some cases; dribble around them, DeMar.)

We’ll allow a bit more bumping and physicality overall. We’re not talking Rockets/Warriors 2025 playoffs levels or anything – the goal is just let the players do their thing.

We’d partner this with a much tighter whistle – and tech trigger – for truly egregious bullshit. More on this later.

Other ways I’ll ruin offence

We’ll just rattle off some changes:

• Walk back gather step rules about 15 years to limit their gratuitousness while still allowing for creativity.
• Call carries and double dribbles like they were called around the Iverson era (thus still allowing for dynamic movement but cutting some ridiculousness).
• Call moving screens.
• The corner 3 no longer exists.

Woah woah woah time out

Time outs are important but dull. Therefore, we’ll limit them just a bit.

Each half, teams will get:

• Three 90 second time outs (also used for challenges)
• One reset time out, letting them move the ball to the half way line.

Use ’em or lose them.

And the two big changes:

• No live-ball time outs. If the ball’s in play, you play.
• No time outs in the last two minutes of the game.

Challenging challenges

Speaking of challenges, let’s tinker with them. They’ll be capped at 60 seconds. Challenges will be reviewed by the three officials on the floor and one ref remotely. Each ref will see different angles to maximise coverage.

They’ll each vote to either uphold or overturn the call anonymously, with the crew chief’s vote being worth 2 votes (for a total of 5).

But the players will get tired

Cutting time outs and limiting free throws will, by extension, shrink the amount of recovery time players get during the game.

I don’t care. Use your bench. Figure it out.

The clock doesn’t stop

As we said up top, the goal is a free-flowing game. That means we cut any unnecessary hold-ups.

Here’s a big one: a play on/advantage rule.

Let’s lay out my least favourite thing in basketball. A team plays incredible defence for the full 24 second shot clock. The team on offensive throws up a prayer of a shot that doesn’t hit the rim. The defending team gets the ball and goes to run in transition – the single best time to score – but nope!

A ref blows the whistle to call a shot-clock violation. It’s side-out for the defending team. Their opponents, who were so thoroughly beaten they couldn’t get a shot up, now get to go back and set their defence.

That, I say, is bullshit. If you force a shot-clock violation and get the ball – advantage called, play on.

Another example: X passes the ball to Y, who gets an open 3. But X is fouled on the pass. Right now, that’s a side out. But the offensive team might not get a shot as good as an open 3, meaning the defenders got a break.

No more. Call the foul, note it down, but call advantage. Count the 3. Move on.

Its up to the ref’s discretion whether or not to call advantage. They’ll get it wrong some times. That’s fine. Soccer has made it work for yonks. We’ll survive.

In the spirit of keeping things moving: if the ball goes out of bounds and it’s obvious who’s ball it is, just grab the thing and play on (like after a made basket).

Back to egregious bullshit

To make all this work well, we’re going to pump up investment in ref training and resources. We’re also going to create a better working environment for them so being a ref isn’t hell.

For example: each team will nominate one assistant coach to act as the team liaison each game. Anyone else bitches, moans or yells: tech ’em up.

Players and ref can chat, obviously. And I’m not opposed to a player asking a clarifying Q during a free throw or down moment.

But any sulking or Draymonding will be met with techs. And, if you get yourself tossed, that’s fine. No superstar protection here.

Everyone will adjust. The key thing is letting officials do their job – which is to provide and maintain an environment where players can play with minimal intervention.

Process, not perfectiom

I have no interest in every single call from refs being 100% correct. Litigation is dull.

I also have no interest in coaches calling time out after time out down the stretch of games to draw up perfect plays. Call that shit from the sidelines.

All I want, as the humble god-king of the universe, is basketball that flows like a river. Beautiful, elegant and refreshing.

And, look, if it all falls apart, at least the games will be shorter. That’s a plus.

So I decided to give myself a present: 3 stats about the San Antonio Spurs offence I can track to see how they’re going about business this season.

Pick ‘n’ roll frequency

The ol’ pick n roll (PNR) is a staple of NBA offences but the Spurs have been moving away from it over the last five seasons.

They’ve gone from being the 4th most frequent PNRer in the league in the to the 5th least: 

• 20–21: 4th (22.2% of their offensive possessions).
• 21–22: 10th (18.5%).
• 22–23: 16th (16.7%).
• 23–24: 23rd (14.3%).
• 24–25: 25th (13.8%).

That doesn’t happen accidentally (especially when you have Chris Paul, an all-time great PNR ball handler, running your offence in 24–25). The Spurs have been steadily moving away from the play in favour of more holistic movement in the half court.

But now they’ll have a full season of Victor Wembanyama and De’Aaron Fox. Wemby is could be one of the most dangerous roll men in the league and Fox is devastating with a bit of space. That’s a fun PNR combo – it’ll be fun to see how often the team goes to it. 

3-point attempts vs makes

The Spurs catch-and-shoot (CNS) 3 ranks are a real ride. Let’s take a looksie.

Last season, they put up a lot of them but they didn’t convert. Here’s where they stand compared to the league:

• CNS 3s attempted: 5th (29.2 per game).
• CNS 3s made: 10th (10.6).
• CNS shooting %: 22nd (36.5%).

That’s just… rough. It’s not an aberration, either. Here are some past seasons:

• 23–24: 4th in attempts (27.9), 8th in makes (9.9), equal 29th in % (35.4%).
• 22–23: 9th in attempts (24.9), 15th in makes (8.9), 24th in % (35.8%).

It’s not news that the Spurs have struggled in the shooting department.¹ Those woes are just compounded when you’re getting a lot of shots up.

Personally, I’m okay with the number of 3s the Spurs are taking since a lot of them are coming in the flow of the offence. They just have to get the % of makes up.

Transition

Wemby’s arrival in San Antonio coincides with a spike in the Spurs transition frequency:

• 20–21: 23rd (13.3%).
• 21–22: 18th (15%).
• 22–23: 20th (16.2%).
• 23–24: 6th (18.7%).
• 24–25: 7th (19.9%).

Get stops. Run. Score. That’s the motto for this team.

They’ll have a lot of guys that can get a defensive rebound and just go – can they push that transition rate even higher?

I’ll never doubt them again.

The Las Vegas A’jas

There’s no “I” in team but there is an “A’ja”.¹ A’ja Wilson turned from “incredible player” to “sleep paralysis demon” during these playoffs. It culminated in a game three of the Finals where, in Phoenix, she dropped this shot to win the game:

There wasn’t even a play call for that shot, according to Aces coach Becky Hammon. It was just “get A’ja the ball”. And, well.

A’ja Wilson: sleep paralysis demon.

That’s the face Wilson pulled after she buried her game-winning shot. It’s an oni-mask level expression. She’ll haunt the dreams of everyone in Phoenix, whether they watch basketball or not.

The gang’s all here

It wasn’t just A’ja, though. 

Jackie Young showed up, proving how impossible she is to guard when she’s on as she broke the record for most points scored in a quarter in the Finals (with 21 points in the third quarter of game two).

Chelsea Gray – my emergency contact – dropped filthy assists and hit timely buckets.

The bench showed up when they were needed. Kierstan Bell did some dramatic pointing and thumbs up.

Still champs, still confusing

The Aces bludgeoned the Phoenix Mercury. They gave ‘em the lumber.

But it wasn’t exactly an all-conquering playoff run. They didn’t look like world beaters against the Seattle Storm in round one. They looked vulnerable against the Indiana Fever – missing their best player – in round two (including when even more of their players went out in the final game of the series).

And yet. 

Sure, Phoenix were a better matchup for Vegas. But the sheer waterfall of winning was surprising. Maybe it shouldn’t have been: what better way to end a befuddling season than with a confusing win?

This is an all-time season. It cemented this team as an all-time squad.

And A’ja? Well, she’s now up there with Lauren Jackson as my basketball GOAT. That’s a hell of a deal.

• While Ballmer was CEO of Microsoft, they released the Zune. They only sold a few million of them. Ballmer could buy every Zune still available and have money left over to not help the Clippers win a title.

• Americans have a collective $1.814 trillion in student debt. Ballmer could’ve spent $49.9 million wiping it away, $10,000 on a really big spinning wheel to pick the people who get their debt cleared, and $50 on a webcam to stream it all on Twitch.

• There’s a guy who makes hats out of cucumber. Ballmer could buy $50 million worth of these hats. The guy would likely never fulfil the order but it’d keep him off the streets.

• Portrait of a Lady on Fire, one of the best movies of all time, had a budget of $5.67 million. $50 million would fund 8.8 films of similar scope, increasing the amount of good art in the world.

• As of 1 July 2023, Sudan had a population of 50,042,791 people. $50 million means they get $0.99 each.

• Wikipedia lists 93 improv theatre companies worldwide. That’s $537,634 each to stop it.

We don’t make movies to make money. We make money to make more movies.

Now, the truth behind that is debatable: Walt was as passionate capitalist and he rode the wave of American imperialism after World War 2 with the best of them. But the sentiment is lovely. And it’s the kind of thing I wish more titans of industry would adopt since it conveys a fundamental respect for craft.

More specifically, I wish Adam Silver – the commissioner of the NBA and capitalist turtle¹ – felt the same way about basketball. Because it’s painfully clear that he cares about basketball as a vehicle for making money more than he cares about making money to support basketball.

Want to watch basketball games? Fuck you.

Eager to chase as much money as possible, the NBA has made games harder and harder to watch. If you’re in the US, you now need a plethora of cable deals to watch any given game. Sure, you can subscribe to NBA League Pass – but not if you want to watch your local team thanks to arcane blackout rules that mean you have to go through your regional cable provider.

None of this is to benefit fans: it’s all about money.

Adam Silver was recently asked about fans who can’t afford all these streaming services (emphasis mine):

There’s a huge amount of our content that people can essentially consume for free. I mean, this is very much a highlights-based sport. Instagram, TikTok, Twitter, you name it, any service, there’s an enormous amount of content that consumers can consume.

First, Silver using the word “content” to describe basketball games is a red flag. It’s a word that devalues anything it’s used to describe and turns it into a fetid mush – undifferentiated from the dumbest tweet you’ve ever read – whose only value is to hold someone’s attention for a millisecond so someone, somewhere can extract a penny from your eye socket.  

You never call anything you love – or value – content. Content is, by definition, dead behind the eyes.

Second, the NBA is only a “highlights-based sport” insofar as the NBA have systematically made it real fucking hard to watch the games. The statement alone signals that the games themselves are secondary to the few moments that go viral. Why watch a game? It’s a 48-minute event that takes 120 minutes to watch. Just click on a highlight on YouTube, say someone is washed in the comments, and then watch the recommended video that’ll set you off on a radicalisation spiral. Don’t forget to like and subscribe.

The NBA being a “highlights-based sport” doesn’t benefit its fans (who, allegedly, enjoy the sport of basketball): it benefits the platforms that host, distribute, and monetise those highlights.

Those social media platforms don’t care about basketball. They just want “content” that keeps people on platform so they can make ad money. The networks don’t care about basketball. They care about “inventory” that fills time slots they can sell ads against and exclusivity so they can exploit local interest in teams and charge egregious prices despite doing nothing at all to improve the viewing experience.

But, hey, this model works, right? Sure. In that it makes a few people an obscene amount of money. Cool.

Basketball isn’t basketball

Every year, the value of basketball teams goes up because of this cycle. Surprise: this doesn’t benefit fans in the slightest.

As teams become more valuable, they price out the fans that spurred on this interest. TV deals increase in value, leading networks to extract yet more money from fans to make the “investment” worthwhile through ads, yet more ads, and subscription cost (note: they don’t invest in making the viewing experience better – that’d cost more).

Meanwhile, the games themselves get slower (literally mandatory “TV timeouts” so they can run ads). They get more embroiled in controversy as gambling companies get more involved. And everything around the game is just a bit more mediocre.

Better things are possible

Adam Silver and the NBA could spend the next year implementing the most fan-friendly policies possible. They could make the game a tighter, better broadcast experience (with fewer stoppages and ads). They could, somehow, lower ticket prices. They could make it easier to watch games wherever you are.

Let’s just say that wipes a zero off the end of team valuations. That wouldn’t hurt anyone but the owners who are already billionaires (and likely bought a team so they felt cool and exclusive) – which is to say it wouldn’t matter at all.²

But fans would be infinitely better off. Here’s the thing: the game itself has never been better. The sport of basketball is incredible. The players are more talented. The coaching teams are smarter than ever. It’s a joy.

Just, you know, good luck watching it.

I’m a Las Vegas Aces fan. I have an Aces tattoo of a cartoon ace of spades carrying a championship trophy and boombox – it’s delightful.

And yet, because I’m a fool, I want the Minnesota Lynx to win the 2025 WNBA Championship.

A long, winding road to being a doofus

I’m going to spell out how I got here because I want you to understand why I’m committed to this stance.

1. The only basketball videogame I had growing up was NBA Live 99.

2. I almost exclusively played as the Minnesota Timberwolves because I thought they had the coolest logo (and I was very swayed by logos).

3. I thus have a strong affection for the Wolves.

4. This affection has only grown because of the incredible mediocrity of the men’s team and has transmuted into an affection for Minnesota sports overall because I, an empath, want Minni fans to have nice things.

5. The Minnesota Lynx, beacons of excellence, would’ve won the WNBA Championship were it not for a royally botched foul call.

There’s more: Napheesa Collier is incredible and deserves a championship ring. Revenge arcs are fun. And perhaps most importantly of all, the Las Vegas Aces have been damn weird this season.

Confusing time in Vegas

The Aces went into last season as championship favourites. They fell short of that: they were stomped in the second round by the Liberty and just looked exhausted for the rest of the play-offs. Their total lack of depth was exposed.

Their following off-season was, uh, rough. Kelsey Plum was traded; they fired Natalie Williams, their general manager, and they protected Tiffany Hayes in the expansion draft for the Golden State Valkyries… only for Hayes to sign with the Valks in free agency.

I was down on the Aces heading into the season. And their early play lived up to that expectation. Shit was messy. Their play was disjointed. The chatter about the team’s front office could be summarised as “things are suss in Vegas”.

The Aces fell down the standings. They were below or at .500. They looked like they’d scrape into the playoffs if they were lucky. Obviously I’m no fair-weather fan and I support the Aces in all their endeavours (see: my silly tattoo) but*,* you know, I’m pragmatic.

My latent Minnesotan sympathies awakened. I began to hope that — if the Aces won’t be contending the title — perhaps the Lynx could take it. 

I’m a victim here

Unfortunately, as of writing, the Las Vegas Aces are on a 15-game winning streak. They’re second in the standings, four games behind the Minnesota Lynx.

A’ja Wilson, the Aces best player, is putting together an overwhelming case for an unprecedented fourth MVP award. Chelsea Gray – noted action hero – is playing like she can control time and Jackie Young is scoring like the rim owes her money.

Let’s be clear: I love this. But also: oh no.

The Aces are playing like they have a revenge arc against themselves a few months ago. It’s incredible. I want them to win it all.

It’s just – the Lynx. I’m so emotionally invested. I want Minnesota fans to have nice things…

But hey: playoff runs are nice, right? You can just enjoy that, right?

If you need a ride home from the airport, Chelsea Gray will be waiting with coffee and a snack. German terrorists take over your Christmas party? Chelsea Gray is already in the vents. And if you need a bucket? Well. You know. 

In case of emergency: ball out

Chelsea Gray has the reassuring gravitas of a firefighter carrying the biggest hose you’ve ever seen. If a game’s tight, but she has the ball, I just assume everything will be okay.

At no point in this ten-second clip did I think Gray would miss. Her team needed a bucket; she danced; she got to her spot; she nailed the shot. Of course she did.

There are few people in the world better at controlling a play than Chelsea Gray. She sees moments unfold and delivers what her team needs with, honestly, a level of panache that makes you think things couldn’t have gone any differently. Observe:

That pass, right there, is the embodiment “I’ve got you.” A xenomorph queen is baring down on you but, hold up, Chelsea Gray just got into P–5000 Powered Work Loader and she’s ready to throw hands.

In Gray we trust

There’s nothing better than watching Chelsea Gray stunt on her opponents when she’s on. Just watch her work during the Aces’ first title run on her way to a Finals MVP.

Imagine trying to guard her—you do everything right—but somehow, Chelsea-fucking-Gray gets to the free throw line and puts up a jump shot—you contest it!—and she just buries it through your head like she’s Sarah Connor laying out the T-1000.

Please join me in this heartfelt prayer: whenever something goes wrong in life, may we attack it with the skill, precision and goddamn flair of Chelsea Gray.

Wesley went 5.4/18 from the field across five games. I watched this unfold and said, out loud to no-one, “I fucking love this kid.”

“Boom or bust” bonanza

He was the exact type of prospect I can get behind: wildly athletic, incredibly raw. Wesley was a Formula 1 car with a learner driver behind the wheel.

Here’s how NBA draft expert Sam Vecenie described Wesley in his 2022 NBA Draft guide:

This is essentially a boom or bust swing. If it works, Wesley has a chance become a legitimate starting guard in the NBA. There is also a real chance Wesley ends up not being much of anything

Hell. Yeah.

Wesley has one other key thing going for him: he steps onto the court to ruin someone’s day, each and every time. He goes hard all the time, for better or worse.

Wesley wants to destroy you

When you’re watching a bad team be bad for months, one of three things happen:

1. You do literally anything else with your time.

2. You lose your mind.

3. You find small things to give you joy.

Wesley was a joy machine. He just wanted to ruin the lives of every opponent he had on the Spurs.

At its most productive, that manifested as smothering defence and momentum swinging steals.

And its most fun, though, it was moments like this:

That’s Blake Wesley, averaging 4 points and 14 minutes per game, landing a great dunk and then hitting the Shawn Kemp point like he’s a goddamn star. (Kemp, by the by, is an all-time dunker and was a six-time NBA All Star. He can point at whoever he wants.)

I chortled when it happened – and chortling isn’t a normal basketball reaction – just for the audacity.

He even did it in the G League:

These small joys are the difference between enjoying and lamenting the hours you spend watching sports.

Blake was a “small joys” machine for the Spurs. Like the time he inbounded the ball off a distracted Luka Doncic for a dunk:

Or when, for some reason, he got really into shaking Chris Paul:

Ride or die

These moments are why it’s a treat to ride with those young, third-string prospects who probably won’t make it – but they might. You know? They just might.

Every sports sicko has a couple on their team. 90% of them won’t make it. But one will eventually. And they’re all players you’ll think of in 10 years, when you’re deep in the hole just naming guys, and you’ll just say “Damn, when Wesley dunked and then pointed at that guy? That was cool” to yourself. And you’ll be right. It was cool.

Because, for a few years, Blake Wesley was your dude. And you’ll ride or die with Blake Wesley.

But I was a youth who loved basketball and caps so I wanted a basketball cap. I chose the Hornets because they had, to my eyes, the coolest logo. It was, at the very least, the most 90s one on offer.

Glorious.

(The Hornets still have some of the best branding in the league. Shame about everything else.)

My dad, meanwhile, chose the Orlando Magic for the same reason. Their logo didn’t have the same in-your-face attitude of the Hornets so it didn’t fly for me. This logo didn’t ride a skateboard or furrow the brow of your uptight school principal. But I saw the appeal.

It shimmers, it shines.

All of that is to say: I have a fondness for the Orlando Magic. It’s all tied up with my love for my slightly gooberish, fantasy-loving dad but it’s a fondness nevertheless. I want nice things for them in the way I want nice things for everything my dad directs his attention towards (even if it’s only to play along with his basketball loving son). 

The spell recast

Let’s recap the Magic from the late 90s to now: wow, oh, oh?, oh, wow, ah, ah…, wooooooooooof.

Thankfully, I wasn’t paying attention to league for most of that time. But the last few years have been a clear “‘oh?’ with an upward inflection” period. The Magic are good. They’re fun. They have a clear identity.

Paolo Banchero is just mowing down dudes. Franz Wagner has that classic “European white guy doing stuff” appeal (and his brother’s on the team – bonus points). Jalen Suggs defends like he’s a Swiftie in the replies of someone commenting on the carbon emissions of Taylor Swift’s private jet.

They’re a great team to watch. And I’m so damn thrilled.

Hitting your next spell slot

Now, Orlando have taken their next swing.

It’s been clear for a while that, for all the team’s defensive moxie, their offence was rough. Paolo and Franz are great with the ball in their hands but they need space. And the team didn’t have the 3-point shooting to provide it.

So they made a trade. They went and got Desmond Bane, shooter extraordinaire, from the Memphis Grizzlies.¹

Bane could be an incredible fit. He scores but doesn’t need the ball in his hands. He flies around off-ball. He can run the offence for a bit if you need him to. He plays hard and competes on defence. He knows how to shine alongside elite talent that demands attention. His last name is apt.

He gives a fuck. And he’s joining a team where fuck giving is demanded. 

Magic is fun (when you don’t think too hard)

I just can’t imagine a universe where this team isn’t fun. Paolo, Franz, Bane and Suggs could be a fantastic group. Just imagine it:

• Paolo growing into his powers and dropping buckets.

• Franz dropping jaws with his creativity. 

• Suggs grinding out people on defence.

• Bane running off screens and nailing 3s.

I have no idea where they’ll land in the standings or how far they’ll go in the playoffs (hopefully the second round at least). But they’ve taken a swing. And it’ll be fun.

If nothing else, I’ll hopefully have some positive news to share with my dad when he asks how the NBA is going. (Even though he still lambasts me for dropping the Hornets.)

Take the shot, shoot it with all you have

‘Cause I’ll never lose all my faith in you

Grab that board, I’ll never ask you to stop

Except for maybe half of everything that you do

You don’t really need to go very much harder

You don’t wanna have to go where teams don’t follow

You won’t hold it back again, this passion inside

Can’t run from the game, there’s nowhere to hide

But don’t make me watch one more brick

I really need you to stick

Stay on the floor if you can

For I will always be your fan

Don’t go off my team

I have nothing, nothing, nothing

If I don’t have Brook, Brook, Brook, Brook, Brook

You drive through, right to the heart of hoops

You break down its walls with the strength of your game

Ball never knew hops like it’s known ‘em with you

Will our opponents survive? They likely will do

You don’t really need to go very much harder

You don’t wanna have to go where teams don’t follow

You won’t hold it back again, this passion inside

Can’t run from the game, there’s nowhere to hide

Your dunk, I’ll remember forever

But don’t make me watch one more brick

I really need you to stick

Stay on the floor if you can

For I will always be your fan

Don’t go off my team

I have nothing, nothing, nothing

Don’t make me watch one more brick

I really need you to stick

Stay on the floor if you can

For I will always be your fan

Don’t go off my team, no

Don’t go of my team

Don’t you dare go off my time

I have nothing, nothing, nothing

If I don’t have Brook

Brook

If I don’t have Brook

Oh, Brook

Inspired by this post from The Dunker Spot’s Steve Jones Jr. If you’re not listening to The Dunker Spot, get on it.

The NBA needs that now more than ever. The league is a self-serious place, devoid of whimsy. It’s filled with people that think making billions of dollars turns the sport into more than sweaty people putting a ball in a hoop.

Don’t get it twisted: basketball is incredible. Watch any game on any given court on any given day and you’ll see something cool. Watching people like Victor Wembanyama and Amen Thompson just do stuff remains a great way to spend your time.

But so is watching Haliburton. The man skips down the court. Skips.

And that’ll save the NBA.

The NBA needs whimsy

The NBA is a show. For too long, the league has been filled with:

• Deeply serious guys who play the game as a sacred act.

• People who just do the job.

• People who happen to be incredible players and are here for the lifestyle.

• Steph Curry, the greatest show in the league.

Steph also has whimsy. His no-look 3 is stunning. The night-night is a primo taunt. Watching him nail 3 after 3 after 3, bringing entire stadia roaring to their feet in collective, giddy, shouting triumph is transformative.

But Steph is the Skyfucker, destroyer of worlds. Haliburton is a little stinker who happens to be an amazing basketball player.

This stinker sinks buckets

It helps that Haliburton is on an all-time run in the 2025 playoffs. He and the Indiana Pacers have strung together a series of comebacks so vicious and delightful that the ghost of George Carlin is impressed.

Let’s use ESPN’s win probabilities as a quick shorthand for this hectic stretch:

• Round one, game five against the Buck: the Pacers had a 0.5% chance of winning with 40 seconds left in the game. The Pacers won.

• Round two, game two against the Cavs: 1.9% chance of winning with 0:06 left in the third quarter. The Pacers won.

• Conference finals, game one against the Knicks: 0.2% chance of winning with 3:44 left in the fourth quarter. The Pacers would tie the game and, yup, go on to win in overtime.

• The Finals, game one against the Thunder: 2.1% of winning with 9:42 left in the game. The Pacers won.

Absurd comebacks. Riveting television. No matter the lead held by their opponents, the Pacers – and Tyrese Haliburton – felt as inevitable as a Thanos reference the second someone says “inevitable”.

Here’s a cheeky stat from Keerthika Uthayakumar on Bluesky:

Tyrese Haliburton is 6-for-7 (85.7%) when taking a shot to tie or take the lead in the final 90 seconds of the 4th or OT this playoffs. That’s the most such shots in a single postseason since 1997.

The subplot: what goofy shit would Haliburton do this time?

Hali has fun

Okay, basketball lore time.

Reggie Miller spent his entire 18-year NBA career on the Indiana Pacers. During a playoff game against the New York Knicks in 1994, he hit ‘em with the choke taunt.

Reggie Miller hits the choke taunt (1994).

This is, of course, iconic.

After the Pacers eliminated the Knicks in the 2024 playoffs, Haliburton wore a hoodie with Miller’s choke taunt. I mean, why not?

Remember that conference finals game wherein the Pacers had 0.2% chance of winning against the Knicks with 3:44 left in the fourth quarter? Haliburton hit a 2 pointer to tie the game. In the moment, he – and everyone else in the world – thought it was a 3 to win.

So he hit ‘em with the choke.

Here’s the difference though: Reggie looked cool doing it.

Reggie, left, looking cool, calm and collection. Haliburton, right, looking like a fish trying to swallow an ostrich egg.

Haliburton looks like a goober.

Reggie was on the call for the game. He pointed to Haliburton during the choke taunt.

Reggie Miller pointing knowingly at Tyrese Haliburton.

Again, Reggie looked cool. Haliburton? Eh.

But that’s the point. Haliburton isn’t out here to be cool. He’s just enjoying the moment.

After the game, he said he only did the choke because he thought he had won the Pacers the game. In only tying, he said he had wasted the taunt.

And that’s the thing: he cops to when things blow back in his face. Because he knows it doesn’t really matter.

He’s just a nerd with a whole lot of self-confidence and talent.

He’ll hit you with the big-ball taunt despite it being, objectively, the goofiest thing in the world.

He’s a guy who, according to Chris Vernon (host of the Mismatch podcast), hangs out in Instagram Live auctions for niche vintage wrestling shirts:

There’s a whole niche market for collectors (of vintage wrestling shirts). Haliburton is in these Instagram Live auctions—there might be 30-50 people, Haliburton is routinely in there, anything he wants he gets.

This is the energy the NBA needs.

Basketball is great, basketball is fun

Haliburton said it best with his comically understated reaction to the Pacers’ incredible win in game one of the NBA Finals.

Immediately after the game – where he hit a jump shot to give the Pacers their first lead of the night with 0.3 seconds left – he said this to sideline reporter Lisa Salters:

Basketball is fun. Winning is fun. That’s a great win for us.

He’s right: basketball is fun. Thankfully he’s here to remind us.

Some people will tell you that happenings like Wemby’s 5×5 are the highlight of the season. They’re here for statistically accomplishments or momentous victories. I’m here to say: no. How dare you. Give me the small moments that truly don’t matter.

That’s what we’re here to celebrate. Let’s ride.

Blake Wesley repeatedly shakes Chris Paul

Wesley got real into grabbing Chris Paul by the shoulders and just, you know, shaking him for a while. It happened multiple times. Chris Paul didn’t seem to enjoy it.

Jeremy Sochan says “Fuck Houston”

Jeremy Sochan knows what he’s here for: be a whirling dervish on the court and upset every opposing fan.

San Antonio faced Houston 3 times in 12 days. Before the first meeting, Sochan was asked if there’s a rivalry between the two young Texas teams.

Sochan’s response: “Fuck Houston.”

Sochan got injured before the 3rd matchup but still said his piece:

Man’s good! Spurs are playing, let’s go! Still **** Houston…

I’m sure the replies are heaps normal.

Spurs fans start matching Jeremy Sochan’s hair

One more Jeremy Sochan moment.

Sochan spent his first season in the league changing his hair colour all the time. Things mellowed out during this one (his third).

Midway through the season, he dyed his hair bright green and kept it that way for a while. Fans started wearing wigs to match.

Sochan went bright pink shortly thereafter. Fans followed suit.

Sandro Mamukelashvili and Flavor Flav are friends

Household name Sandro Mamukelashvili went thermonuclear and scored 34 points in under 20 minutes, setting an NBA record in the process.

But that’s not we’re here for. We’re here because Flavor Flav – that Flavor Flav, the guy who wears clocks and member of seminal hip-hop duo Public Enemy – was in the audience. 

Flavor Flav was in the audience because:

• Flav and household name Sandro Mamukelashvili are friends.

• It was Flav’s birthday and he wanted to watch his friend – household name Sandro Mamukelashvili – play basketball.

Okay.

Victor Wembanyama and Chris Paul cheese the All Star Skills Challenge, get disqualified, argue about it

This was peak Chris Paul bullshit and I’m glad he got Wemby on it.

Paul and Wemby teamed up for the skills challenge. The skills challenge was a race. Part of the race was making a 3 pointer. Players had a limited number of attempts to do so before they could move on.

Paul and Wemby said “nah” and just tossed all their balls to blow through the challenge in seconds. No-one liked it. Donovan Mitchell gave ‘em a thumbs down.

Apparently, they cleared their strategy ahead of time. But no dice: they were DQ’d. The NBA were in their feelings about it, apparently: Allie LaForce tried to interview Team Spurs after the disqualification and an NBA rep stopped her, saying “we aren’t doing that” on live TV.

Jump to 1:20 for the juice.

Wemby, a hero of the people, had no regrets.

Steph Castle hesis people into Narnia

This was Steph Castle’s rookie season. He showed off surprising athleticism and threw down a slew of furious dunks. But his hesitation and slow-step layups stole the show. 

Watching professional athletes go flying because Castle just… stopped… was a treat. It never got old. Long may Steph give ‘em the ol’ “Later loser”.

Steph Castle’s hellacious two-hand dunk

Okay one Castle dunk. He threw down this two-hander a few times and, look, this is just an iconic dunk style done well. 

This is a canonical dunk. 

(See also: Blake Wesley losing his goddamn mind on the bench in the top-right hand corner. He starts jumping for joy before Castle even finishes the dunk.)

Cameron Brink’s mum makes everyone uncomfortable

LA Spark’s Cameron Brink was court side with her mum for the Spur’s two games in Paris. During the first game, Devin Vassell hit a few 3s and did his customary celebration. Normal stuff.

However: Cameron Brink’s mum made an observation about that celebration, wherein Vassell covers his face with three fingers. Brink’s mum thought it looked like “the coochie eating face”.

To be fair, she’s not wrong. I don’t think Vassell did that celebration for a while afterwards.

De’Arron Fox’s jumpers

De’Arron Fox joined the Spurs and, shortly thereafter, ended his season to get surgery on an injured pinkie finger. This had an unexpected benefit: it brought his gorgeous jumper collection to the Spurs sidelines. (Or sweater collection, for y’all in America.)

It’s hard to find a good example from game footage, but Fox’s kit in this Marco Is Off The Ball interview is a nice example.

Undestated. Elegant. Foxy.

Dude just has nice jumpers. And that’s why we love this game.

1. All basketball seasons are glorious because basketball is glorious. It’s just that some are more so because the basketball is actually good.

Ask the other 29 GMs: 26 of them would trade their whole team for our whole team and our draft picks and everything as is.

It wasn’t true then and it’s not true now. Phoenix has the most expensive team in the league. They’re old, they’re bad, and they have no road to improvement.

But let’s be generous. Here’s what would need to happen for the general managers of other teams to swap for Phoenix’s team.

1. Landry Fields, Atlanta Hawks: Fields gets in way too deep with a dancer at Magic City, who forces him to make the move.
2. Brad Stevens, Boston Celtics: Celtics coach Joe Mazzulla stops rewatching The Town for inspiration in favour of Breaking Bad. He begs Stevens to move the team to Albuquerque, New Mexico and Steven says, “Whatever, Arizona is close enough.”
3. Sean Marks, Brooklyn Nets: Marks discovers that the Nets need to make one disasterous trade a decade to stave off the End Times and decides to just get this one out of the way.
4. Jeff Peterson, Charlotte Hornets: It just seems on brand.
5. Marc Eversley, Chicago Bulls: It just seems on brand.
6. Mike Gansey, Cleveland Cavaliers: Gansey gets paranoid, thinking that things are going too well for Cleveland at the moment.
7. Nico Harrison, Dallas Mavericks: Nico Harrison does shrooms in Joshua Tree National Park and hallucinates Kobe Bryant telling him that success lies in the sun. After failing to invest in solar panels, Harrison makes a delirous call to Matt Ishbia. Dallas fans feel nothing. 
8. ???, Denver Nuggets: CEO and President Josh Kroenke gets mad about everyone saying he’s cheap and course-corrects way too hard by chasing after the biggest payroll in sports history.
9. ???, Detroit Pistons: An ambitious chickadee wanders into the office and makes the call to the Phoenix Suns. Pistons president Trajan Langdon is too busy trying to say “Deeeetroit bas-ket-baaaaall” like John Mason to notice.
10. Mike Dunleavy Jr., Golden State Warriors: Steph Curry dares Dunleavy to do it, not thinking he’d actually follow through.
11. Rafael Stone, Houston Rockets: Stone just means to trade for Kevin Durant but a comedy of errors leads to a total team swap. The organisation pivots and makes a 80s-style sitcom out of the situation.
12. Chad Buchanan, Indiana Pacers: Buchanan thinks “I wonder how Caitlin Cooper would respond to this…” while dozing off to sleep and just rolls with it. (Cooper, being one of the best basketball analysts around, nails it.)
13. Trent Redden, Los Angeles Clippers: Redden gets real sick of Clippers owner Steve Ballmer rubbing his leg and decided to blow things up.
14. Rob Pelinka, Los Angeles Lakers: Pelinka’s too blissed out from getting Luka Doncic to make any phone calls.
15. Zachary Kleiman, Memphis Grizzlies: Hot for firing coaches, Kleiman trades for the Suns team on the condition that all the coaching bills Phoenix are included.
16. Andy Elisburg, Miami Heat: Elisburg just really wants to see how team president Pat Riley would respond.
17. Jon Horst, Milwaukee Bucks: The whole Bucks situation just kinda bums Horst out so he makes a change after downing a case of Miller Lite. 
18. Matt Lloyd, Minnesota Timerbwolves: Lloyd decides it’ll be easier to deal with the Phoenix’s problems than all of Anthony Edwards’s illegitimate kids.
19. Bryson Graham, New Orleans Pelicans: The team realises that trading for the Phoenix Sun roster is the only way to banish King Cake Baby from the Smoothie King Arena.
20. Gersson Rosas, New York Knicks: Years of subliminal messaging in the music Knicks’ owner James Dolan’s band JD & the Straight Shot lead Rosas to  do anything – anything at all – to get Kevin Durant on the Knicks.
21. Sam Presti, Oklahoma City Thunder: Presti would never.
22. Anthony Parker, Orlando Magic: Parker accidentally inhales some Stuff the Magic Dragon’s fur and goes on an absolute bender.
23. Elton Brand, Philadelphia 76ers: Team president Darly Morey runs a complex Microsoft Excel formula that returns “fuck it, why not?” and they just run with it.
24. Joe Cronin, Portland Trail Blazers: The Blazers lean into their Nike connetion by getting Kevin Durant (a Nike stalwart) and Devin Booker (whose Book 1 shoes are the best Nike basketball shoes in years). Everyone else just assumes they’re invited as well.
25. Monte McNair, Sacramento Kings: McNair and the Kings owner, Vivek Ranadivé, get into a psychosexual game of one-upmanship in which each fucks the franchise in new ways until the other finally feels satisfaction.
26. Brian Wright, San Antonio Spurs: Wemby says “Please”.
27. Bobby Webster, Toronto Raptors: Team president Masai Ujiri wakes with a start, realising he’s perilously close to never having Kevin Durant – the platonic ideal of his wing obsession – on his team and loses all sense of reality until KD arrives in Toronto. 
28. Justin Zanik, Utah Jazz: The move gives Jazz CEO Danny Ainge another squad to tear down and go into perpetual rebuild mode.
29. Will Dawkins, Washington Wizards: Bradley Beal finds a pair of ruby slippers deep in the Arizona desert and says “There’s no place like home.”