Lonzo and LaVar Ball to the Sixers? Yes, please | Mike Sielski
When you cover sports, you root for the story. And no matter what, the UCLA guard and his outspoken dad would be a blast to cover.
The NBA draft lottery is Tuesday night, and it's time for some hard, cold truth where the 76ers are concerned. Tuesday is a huge night for them. The lottery's outcome will chart the course for their offseason and, one could argue, their long-term future. What if they get the No. 1 pick? What if they get the No. 1 pick and the No. 4 pick - the best-case scenario for them? What if they end up with two of the top seven picks? There's a 53.1 percent chance of that happening. Who do they take? Who will fit best with Joel Embiid and Ben Simmons? Do they package the picks in a trade?
Exciting times. Fun discussion topics.
Me, I want one thing: I want them to end up in a position to draft Lonzo Ball, and I want them to take Lonzo Ball, because I want to cover Lonzo Ball, and I want to cover his father, LaVar Ball.
If you've followed college basketball or the predraft process, you know the Balls. You might feel like you know the Balls too well. There's Lonzo, the marvelous UCLA point guard, who is 6-foot-6 and has Mister Fantastic-like arms, who led the nation in assists per game and shot 41 percent from 3-point range. And there's LaVar, who seems the product of a gene-splicing experiment involving Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, P.T. Barnum, and the dance-mommiest Dance Mom who ever appeared on reality TV. LaVar has said that his son is better, right now, than Stephen Curry. In a recent ESPN The Magazine article, he reaffirmed that he wants Lonzo to play for the Lakers, and he vowed to "keep talking about it until it happens." He is responsible for the greatest achievement in sports television so far this year, when he appeared on ESPN's daily scream-fest "First Take" in March and managed, against all odds, to leave Stephen A. Smith speechless.
I want the Sixers to embrace all of this. I want them to draft Lonzo and pair him with Simmons, to see what happens when two players who are so similar - tall, terrific vision, willing passers, with the ability to handle the ball like smaller guards - are on the court together. I want to see how Brett Brown negotiates the situation, if he gives up on Simmons-as-point-guard and moves him to power forward. I want to see if Lonzo can get off his fusilli-style jump shot against stronger, quicker, savvier defenders. If he can, if the arrangement works, I want to witness the beautiful basketball that he and Simmons could create, and I want to hear LaVar brag on his son even more. I want all the attention and excitement that accompanies an NBA franchise that, at last, matters.
And if it doesn't work, I want all the attendant controversy. I want LaVar complaining about his son's playing time and lobbying the front office to trade Lonzo to the Lakers. I want him calling out Bryan Colangelo by name. I want the Sixers, who have struggled to control their messaging on relatively straightforward matters, to try to keep LaVar quiet, and I want to see how he reacts. I want to count the mushroom clouds. Those who say that the Sixers shouldn't draft Lonzo because LaVar is likely to become a loudmouthed distraction are missing the point. Sure, drafting Lonzo might turn out to be a terrible decision for the Sixers, but it would be a great story. Either way, whether it succeeds or fails, it would be a great story.
For example, people think the most enjoyable Eagles season to cover over the last 15 years was the 2004 season, when the team went to the Super Bowl. Wrong. That season was exciting, yes, but the following one, when Terrell Owens demanded a new contract and feuded with Donovan McNabb and set fire to everything he touched, was even more fun. It was fascinating and unpredictable. There was something new, or the possibility of something new, every day. Joel Embiid might yet provide that dynamic. Allen Iverson did. So did McNabb and Eric Lindros. So would Lonzo and LaVar.
Better yet, from all available indications, LaVar would try to provide it. Go to YouTube and find that clip of LaVar and Stephen A. It's magic. It's art, like a piece of jazz in which each musician gets his own solo: first the trumpet, then the trombone, and look out for that alto sax. Watch LaVar throughout that exchange. With each outrageous claim he makes, he can't stop himself from letting a knowing smile creep across his face. It's like watching Jerry Seinfeld on his eponymous sitcom. He tried to keep a straight face once the funny lines started flying, and he couldn't do it. Neither could LaVar. And after a while, neither could Stephen A. You know why? Because it's all a show. It doesn't matter. And best of all, LaVar knows it's a show. It's as if he understands, deep down, that there are things worth screaming about, and that sports really isn't one of them, but he plays along, anyway.
Here's hoping you and your son play here, LaVar. We'd have a blast.
@MikeSielski