Atlantic things we knew, didn't

Howdy.

There is an overwhelming chance this email is inside this inbox because at some point you were asked to click or unclick an unexpected box and said, and we'll quote, "whatever, hurry up."

So, thank you for not unclicking the name of an unreleased Steely Dan song while attempting to earnestly sign up for someone else's newsletters.

This is my NBA newsletter. I just came back from Texas, I had to stop myself from saying "howdy" the entire time, the heartiest effort of my life. Amid that horror I wrote silly notes on every NBA team, what I expected from the season and what I didn't expect to learn from the season.

Real nicely overwritten stuff like this.

We knew parity was good for the NBA, fun for its fans.

We didn't know teams would cling to able talent like a pocketed box of powdered milk in a duststorm. Resources are apparently finite, C.J. McCollum and his manner of would-be journeyman will instead receive deserved extensions to stay in the same place over winter because, holy hell, we have nothing to replace any of our stuff with.

I knew Nikola Jokic used the league's lacking kicked ball policy to advantages unseen in NBA history.

I didn't know my reaction (someone should get in a fight with him) to that recent confirmation, or my laughing reaction to that reaction (tall guy fight!) would be so visceral.

I know the aversion to beginning paragraphs with "I" eased inside the internet age.

I didn't know I'd still have to read "I" at the beginning of every single paragraph on the internet. If AI knew what it was doing, it would start every sentence talking about itself. No, this isn't in reference to a sportswriter or even sportswriters but general internet scribes. However, if you want a group of local sportswriters to pick on why not choose

BOSTON

We knew title defenses were strange. Filled the sort of unexpected things nobody wants to make light of (a team's best defensive big man out with an undisclosed illness, or suspended for kicking a prone cameraman) while can't-help-me chuckling at the only light one can make out of a scene like this.

It isn't always ennui or fatigue. Not the obvious kind at least, the sort of weight one can directly tie toward a player's ongoing illness or the time the power forward kicked a cameraman and was suspended for 11 games.

The Celtics just survived a contractually obligated road trip with zero scheduled championship implications. I think it had plenty, these guys can still stand each other.

Boston will be amazing in the postseason again, 24-point TNT blowouts, entertainment ending well before halftime, I hate it.

We didn't know we will need to be reminded to mention Jayson Tatum's greatness when this is over.

Thought the attention would come around by now, after all, Jayson Tatum is a major endorser. The kind you see interviewed on websites when their first "question" is, tell me about your relationship with Nacho Crispy Chippies and what that means to your charity foundation.

His team is stacked, that helps deflect constant TatumTime, as does the steady build of Jayson's quarter-to-quarter achievements. He's still a lead instrument, but with a timbre which blends.

This isn't a plea for anyone to pay more attention to Jayson Tatum, not when you're about to watch him play every other night (but in real games) for two months. Player podcasts take care of that burden for me: Tatum is getting the edge now because his own contemporaries are sick of our inattention toward his marvelousness, even NBA players think the guy on the Celtics isn't earning enough appreciation.

Tatum's the kid who ends up with the work on the group project that doesn't come easy to everyone else. Not because he's asked to or because he's asking to, it just turns out that way, questions tumble toward his direction. He never demands anyone abandon their chairs, get out of the way of the keyboard, but in the end it was really all Jayson. And without much showing off. He'll show off a little, but he'll try to joke at the same time and it won't work out, everything else will.

Didn't know I'd be chattin' up JT, but it is fun to watch the two best players on the floor (Tatum and Jaylen Brown) overwhelm with capability. And don't call them "the little things," these two are well over 6-feet tall.

We never talk about Tim Duncan, the best player in the NBA for over a decade. We never talk about Pete Sampras.

But then again, you and me, we never talked about Pete Sampras back then, either. What if Jeter played tennis no thank you.

NETS

We knew we couldn't judge anything off this season, be dismayed by any stasis.

The Nets traded Kevin Durant in 2022-23 after realizing they'd become what they were applauded for avoiding. Brooklyn was supposed to turn in a few salted crop seasons in the wake of Mikhail Prokhorov and Billy King's demand for a championship, most teams woulda looked over the fields and used a little cap space to conjure competitiveness out of a lost cause. Like when the Lakers tried to sign LaMarcus Aldridge.

Instead, Sean Marks developed something organic, briefly, which we correctly gave him credit for. Under Marks and Kenny Atkinson, the Nets developed distinction amongst rebuilding lots. Well-coached, easy to view. Superstars liked what they saw and wanted in, Marks was correct to share the opinion of those superstars and brought 'em all in: Kevin Durant, Kyrie Irving, James Harden, Ben Simmons. LaMarcus Aldridge.

Brooklyn ended up with the same sort of bloated, nil draft pick, assortment he'd have discovered had Sean glommed onto old Kevin Garnett, old Paul Pierce and old Joe Johnson. It didn't look like it at the time, Marks was correct to call Kyrie and Kevin Durant back, to hone in on Harden, the ultimate regular season rowboat. His decision to fire Atkinson was incorrect, his selection of Steve Nash an incalculably bad call.

No coach gets in the way of Kyrie Irving refusing to get a vaccine or repeatedly relaying the ahistorical merits of some stupid shit he saw online, or Durant stepping on a three-point line in an otherwise immaculate outing. And all but a handful of NBA head coaches burn out of their initial jobs at that position, no matter how great they are, no matter how well it goes. Everyone goes, even Kenny Atkinson.

But, Steve Nash. J.J. Redick, reversed. R.R. Jedick. K.C. Iderjj. In the end, Marks' Nets turned out the same sort of seasons the salted crop front offices turn in. Wildly overpaying old veterans to cover all losses, hedging on behalf of lacking internal development. These things typically break even, though only if you're in the East.

Marks got his picks back. Don't be dismayed. Even if the next part is crankier.

We didn't know Brooklyn (5-18 since the All-Star break) would be the most depressing team of the season's last two months.

It wasn't Utah or even Charlotte, and this advancement was in place well before head coach Jordi Fernandez, uh, fell in front of (?) Anthony Edwards recently. This team loses in depressing, dreary ways which hardly resemble the sprightly, able defeats from January and early February.

Short sample sizes, spurious competition, midseason misdirection, whatever, the Nets appeared a capable creature in the heart of winter before petering out all over our TV screens after the All-Star break. Brooklyn had to lose, they're still Tankies even without Prokhorov, I get it, but did it have to be so gnarly? The Nets have the best rights to the sixth pick in the draft, exactly where they were before the All-Star break.

I knew H.E.B. was great, from the ads.

I didn't know I'd be online researching ways to purchase the store's caffeinated unsweetened seltzer. Please, someone outside Texas make a seltzer that isn't artificially sweetened and with a normal amount of caffeine. Other cans offer sweetener that tastes like green popsicles from 1987, featuring enough to jolt Johnny Thunders back into comprehension.

Keep making those, too, but also make the other ones.

Also I didn't know H.E.B. had a high-end store, I had to walk out after 10 minutes of wandering, it was too expensive, I had to put the broccoli back.

Speaking of putting the broccoli back.

NEW YORK

We knew we couldn't peel loose Tom Thibodeau's grip on the 82-game regular season. The regular season would always turn out.

The Knicks fell to Charlotte on March 20, Hornets ran up 7-0 to start and won by 17, New York's second road loss (San Antonio) in as many road nights, ex-Knick DaQuan Jeffries starring for the home team. The Knicks were third in the East on the night of that sad one and they'll be third, again, when the playoff start in two weeks, Thibs and team taking seven of the last nine contests, only losing to the Cavs and Clips.

The Knicks circled wagons without the injured Jalen Brunson, impressive work without the left-hander, whose gamelong insistence on a consistent counter-clockwise revolution is typically requisite for holding the halo.

Thibs did it with the early-spring boom of one OG Anunoby, somehow not injuring himself or others with repeated vulgar displays of prodigiousness, yes, I did just imagine Walt "Clyde" Frazier, on air, saying, "and our respect to the much-missed Diamond 'Dimebag' Darrell," with Mike Breen grunting a solemn acknowledgement.

Thibs has an extension and presumably the front office's patience in the first full season after a major retooling. Especially if KAT underperforms or gives the impression of underperformance in the postseason, Thibs will escape again.

"Sometimes [it's] not fun on the body," Mikal Bridges told reporters in Portland last month. "We've got a good enough team where our bench guys can come in and we don't need to play 48, 47 [minutes]. We've got a lot of good guys on this team that can take away the minutes, which helps the defense, helps the offense, helps tired bodies being out there."

There are "minutes played," a number Mikal Bridges routinely leads the league in because he plays every game, and is available for as many minutes as needed.

Then there is "minutes per game," a number Mikal Bridges hasn't led the league in until 2024-25, his first season under Thibodeau, because Bridges worked far more minutes than needed.

And mixing the most minutes per game with the most games is not a good scenario, no matter how much that little break in the first quarter (this is a first quarter league) required it or how badly we needed Mikal out there to keep that advantage by halftime (momentum is everything) or how much things were getting out of hand in the third (he's here for that letdown leadership) or how important the final period was (nothing matters but the fourth).

Doesn't a good coach change, adapt, grow? What makes Thibodeau so special that he is the one above all who cannot be expected to waste time standing in front of players with abilities beneath his contempt?

Does Tom Thibodeau think Pat Riley is weaksauce? The Van Gundys a coupla commies? Red Auerbach a pushover? Phil Jackson a, well, we know what he thinks of Phil Jackson, but does Tom Thibodeau think Jerry Sloan and Gregg Popovich were doing it wrong, playing too many players?

During timeouts, every NBA head coach but Tom Thibodeau gathers with his assistants to clarify plans, develop enthusiasm, discuss ways to articulate as much, while the players talking amongst themselves on the bench. What does Tom Thibodeau think of those 29 head chumps?

Tom Thibodeau is the only NBA head coach who immediately starts speaking to his players during timeouts. No break no breath all go. Me, for three hours, not us.

I didn't know stuff like Thibs and Josh Hart saying dumb shit could still get to me.

This happens in every huddle, this happens with every team, I know, but New York's huddles are different, by head coach's choice. There is never a break, and now I'm failing you because I fucked up?

Thibs was certainly full of the same spirit in 2010-11 and 2014-15 as he effuses in 2024-25. Josh Hart might be the only person in the NBA who can provably claim to be its hardest worker. It happens on every other bench, Thibs and Hart appear as cool as any player and coach in the NBA, and players certainly scream as much at coaches in the heat of performance.

Doesn't mean I have to enjoy it, find it charming, want more of it. I haven't thought of the lost years of Joakim Noah and Luol Deng this much in ages, how Thibs routinely sold them out to the press. How he refused to hem their workloads because minutes of Tom Thibodeau's life would be threatened by an imperfect outcome.

I knew I should start the series with the Atlantic, alphabetical.

I didn't know I should start with a Division I'm less dyspeptic over.

I knew someone would make a fancier, better Skittle someday.

I didn't know it would be TUMS, and taste like a soothing bowl of Crunch Berries.

PHILADELPHIA

We knew it wasn't Great Man Philosophy shit with the Sixers, we knew that because I am in no way above some Great Man shit. You should hear the way I talk up Del Croyall. Or Glen Tarn. Even Sen. Ben Lentley.

Daryl Morey earned a padded return on the Paul George signing not because he is Daryl Morey, but because one Philadelphia 76ers championship (followed by three severely declining Paul George seasons) is worth a $211 million agreement. Tyrese Maxey exists, and it ain't our money.

What we didn't anticipate was the complete and utter absence of leadership, leaving Dr. Nick Nurse out to play surgeon in front of the media, already afflicted from the conflicting analogies.

To the pair's credit, the leftover team competes and plays well. Morey identified Quentin Grimes' scenario, identified Justin Edwards' talent, Guerschon Yabusele was obvious after last summer but so what? At least Morey was first in line to admit the NBA's collective miss.

But to whiff it this bad? Not because he's Daryl Morey, but because anyone could whiff it this bad?

Daryl Morey handling of Joel Embiid's obvious conditioning and injury woes smacks of martyr bullshit we're going to use to fill up a future bestselling book, and not Broad St. with the 76ers' title parade.

Like Daryl's already picked out the New York Times excerpt, some quotable bits for the HoopsHype pull and Twitter graphics: Joel drank how many Blackberry Dr. Peppers on the flight from Philadelphia to Denver? And then Morey makes a joke about the type of phone he had when he pantsed Presti for Harden, says this is a "callback," we all laugh, one million internet points awarded to Daryl.

Morey and Embiid talked but never communicated and wasted another year of everyone's lives. They tried the same, again, and the same happened, again and the attitude is contagious, because I expected different from them though they gave me zero reason to.

We knew that Keith Richards takes the (low) E string off his Telecaster-shaped electric guitars.

We didn't know it was because the little bridge screws on the low E string on a Telecaster hurt your hand, man, they hurt.

TORONTO

We knew they'd kick the can down the road another season.

They knew. Enough games with Pascal Siakam and OG, enough without. Enough with RJ Barrett tearing it up, enough of 2023-24 to note 2024-25 probably wasn't going to be it, yet, though it wouldn't be bad.

We didn't know when they'd kick it in. Training camp deal, mid-December, February? Brandon, Ingram? You're the team that did Brandon Ingram? That's awesome.

The asset retention ploys, as mentioned earlier? Anyone can see Masai trading into that, but, Brandon Ingram?

This is old news for inside Toronto but to an outsider, this is great, I love it, further proof that everyone bows to buckets at some point in the run. Whether the spreadsheets spit it out or you just love watching someone twirl their way toward 22 from a spot in the tunnel, the active embrace of a picked-upon, in-prime, not-superstar in potential 2024-25 NBA All-Star Brandon Ingram is thrilling, confirming, I can barely end my sentences over it.

The Raptors worked up better defense this season, a fully-healthy and inspired version of this roster intrigues. There was no reason for Raptors to be inspired in 2024-25, when the entire outfit knew it was in for another tanking operation. So, chins up, that'll improve next year.

Will the Raptors stay healthy throughout 2025-26? These guys?

Probably not. This labor uncertainty is the fifth-strongest reason we should root for the Toronto Raptors to win the rights to Cooper Flagg's NBA employment in May.

Reasons No. 1 through No. 4 are probably obvious, even if I don't curse.

I knew "Buffet Crampon Unibody One-Piece LP LOW Pitch" was a musical instrument description.

I didn't know which one. Clarinet.

In my defense, I didn't know an instrument as unholy as a clarinet could be described with so many, I'll say it, cool words.

I'm not telling everyone to burn every clarinet. What I will say is that no human should have to hear a clarinet played by itself, let alone a clarinet solo.

This has been my attempt to work "I" into more of my paragraphs.

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NINETY-EIGHT CENTS PLUS TAX

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