Oh Hell, Don Yell

In one of those breathless e-mails that always make me feel vaguely sad for the PR intern that had to write it, the Sixers announced today that they've signed Donyell Marshall, because he was too soft to get a Euro offer.

No, wait, it's because the seventh team in fourteen years (really, seven and fourteen? I'm old and so is he) is going to be the charm for the "perimeter threat with playoff experience."

But hey, he was from here originally, so it's a feel-good story, right?

Um, no.

Let's just call Donny Badball for what he is: a bench guy with questionable heart, who takes a ton of threes when given any opportunity. Since he's big and not especially good at it, he's always open, so his offensive game mostly consists of floating in space, spotting up and missing. He's Robert Horry without the defense and smarts, or Antoine Walker without the low-post moves and court vision. In other words, nothing you really want on your team.

If the Sixers use him for 8 to 15 minutes a game as a garbage man / designated fouler / three-point specialist, he might stick on the roster all year and give them a trace of value. Heck, maybe he even wins them a game or two; it's not like the team is lousy with guys with confidence (justified or not) from beyond the arc.

But if he actually gets significant burn due to injury or insanity, he'll put up his usual poor man's multi-cat numbers... while aiding and abetting the breakout game of anyone who is facing him on offense.

Oh, and that vaunted playoff experience? In 41 games under the big lights, he give you 7.3 and 4.5 board in 21 minutes per game (or, well, remarkably worse than even his previous levels of eh). That's playoff experience you can believe in, my friends!

Hopefully, they don't think he's more than situational minutes and big man fouls to give, because other than that, he's got nothing. Oh, and if Mo Cheeks somehow decides he needs Donny's Veteran Savvy instead of minutes to Thaddeus Young, he should be hung and strung. (Let's just say that I have some cause for worry.)

Marshall, Marshall, Marshall

So let’s get this straight... LeBron James and the Cavs are a three-pointer away from having the chance to steal Game One on the road in Detroit. LeBron drives the lane, draws two defenders, and kicks to (arguably) the team’s best three-point shooter, Donyell Marshall. Marshall clangs it, the Pistons run down the rebound, Billups makes the free throws (of course), and the story is...

James criticized for passing to a wide-open teammate.

Excuse me for a minute here. Who missed the freaking shot? Whose entire offensive game more or less consists of "Hitting Open Threes"? Who would be getting the Robert Horry Hand Job if the Cavs had won?

Yeah. The same guy who isn’t answering any questions today.

Does anyone in the NBA realize just how badly this makes the game look to the casual fan, who is just catching the highlights before their daily twenty minute update on the condition of Joe Torre? (Joe had some bran yesterday and the Yankees won, so things are looking up. Check back again tomorrow.) A star player is criticized for trusting his teammate to do the job he is paid to do – and it’s not like the Cavs employ Marshall for his defense, or his winning personality.

Jordan passed to John Paxson and Craig Hodges. They hit, the Bulls win, Jordan’s a winner, best teammate ever, yada yada yada.

James passes to Marshall, Marshall whiffs, James doesn’t have the killer instinct. He’s not Carmelo Anthony in a close game. (And we all see how Melo’s clutch ability has helped the Nuggets to extraordinary playoff glory. Oh, wait.)

Here’s what should happen in Game Two. James will come out more assertive on offense. The refs, stung by the transparently ridiculous fact that LeBron didn’t shoot a single free throw in 45 minutes of court time in the first game, will send him on the line a dozen times.

(Oh, and a special shout-out – HEY! -- to Zombie Coach Mike Brown, who draws a paycheck from the Cavs despite the palpable stench of rotting flesh… you really should study Phil Jackson’s videotapes of gaming the refs for your star player more. No one could catch the sarcasm in your voice when you said, "I guess LeBron needs to drive to the basket harder" in that press conference. If, in the real chance that you don’t know who Phil Jackson is, just rent a David Spade movie. It’s the same thing.)

Ziggy Ilgauskas, who had 20+ points in Game One from James setting up his teammates, will be notable by his absence. Detroit’s big men will provide more help on defense, because they won’t have to contend with Ziggy down low. The Pistons will win, because they are the (much) better team. Drew Gooden, Donyell Marshall, Larry Hughes and the rest of the Cavaliers who do not have JAMES stitched on the back of their uniform will shower, dress, and get on the plane in relative isolation and comfort. And James will get to answer questions about what he is going to do differently in Game Three.

Answer: Hope like hell that his teammates show up for a home game. Dream of what life would be like with one of the six remaining point guards left in the world.

And start thinking about where he’s not going to watch the Finals.