Love in the Time of LeBron NBA Awards

It’s the end of the season, and what a season it was. The lovable underdogs, the Los Angeles Lakers took home the championship and the Summer of 2010 is about to descend in all of it’s apocalyptic fury. Incidentally, one year ago on this very day, this blog started with a vision of human sacrifice performed by a back-up for the Minnesota Timberwolves. We have come so far since then. Let’s celebrate with the first annual Love in the Time of LeBron NBA Awards. Yes, we are doing this. Yes.

All Fallen Heroes Team
This is the team of my five favorite players who were once truly great but saw terrible decline this season. Either felled by their own tragic flaws, the indifference of a cruel universe, or the sapping, and unrelenting force of age and time, some of my absolute favorite players became shadows of themselves this past season, and left me sad. The flickering torches of true and genuine greatness must be passed before they extinguish. We grow old, we grow old, and we wearour trousers like damn fools. For the heroes.

PG Gilbert Arenas
SG Allen Iverson
SF Vince Carter
PF Kevin Garnett
C Shaquille O’Neal

All Nerd Team
Just a bunch of nice guys who leave their comics, videogames, Rubik's cubes, and blogs. Oh and Steve Nash. Sure, Steve Nash isn’t nerdy in those same terms, but he’s deeply silly, and well, I mean c’mon.

PG Steve Nash
SG Danny Granger
SF Marvin Williams
PF Channing Frye
C Brook Lopez

Creepy Cerebral Team
Not nerds, but (potentially) evil geniuses. This team would pick you apart so fast that you couldn’t help but feel naked. Some of the most ruthlessly gifted players in the league, but also uncannily bright. Imagine the team meetings.

PG Steve Nash
SG Kobe Bryant
SF Shane Battier
PF Tim Duncan
C Emeka Okafor

Total Badass Team
Be honest with me. Would you mess with a single guy on this team? Note, four out of five made the Finals and the other went to jail. Just saying.

PG Gilbert Arenas
SG Kobe Bryant
SF Ron Artest
PF Kevin Garnett
C Rasheed Wallace

All Nemesis Team
If you have the ball, who do you not want to see defending you? These guys. Not quite the all-defensive team, but rather a collection of the peskiest defenders in the league who pride themselves in getting under your skin an inside your head. Varejao must exemplifies that attitude and Sasha and Birdman combine that with certain magical quality that just make people hate them. Rondo and Wallace are legitimately great defenders by everyone’s accounting, but they bring a certain stony athletic quality that scares their opponents. I love that.

PG Rajon Rondo
SG Sasha Vujacic
SF Gerald Wallace
PF Anderson Varejao
C Chris Anderson

Pure Joy Team
I love watching these five guys. Wish they were in every game. They play brilliant, joyful basketball and remind me of the full potential of the NBA. Also, maybe just a coincidental fact, but nice smiles all round. Think about it.

PG Chris Paul
SG Ray Allen
SF LeBron James
PF Josh Smith
C Dwight Howard

Can We Hang Out Team?
Simply put, the guys in the NBA who I want to hang out with. Dudes who just seem cool, nice, and relatively down to Earth for ridiculously talented millionaires. Maybe not the ultimate list of dudes who you’d want to hit the club, but definitely the dudes who I’d want to go to a barbecue with. Another name for this list might be, “Why I’m Not Bill Simmons.”

PG Steve Nash
SG Baron Davis
SF Caron Butler
PF Channing Frye
C Brook Lopez

All Bench Team
Personal and sentimental favorites who could totally start for lots of teams. They are all starters in my heart.

PG Ty Lawson
SG Goran Dragic
SF Martel Webster
PF Marcin Gortat
C Channing Frye

Gimme Some More Team
We didn’t get to see very much of these guys this season, and that’s a shame because the are all awesome or dripping with awesome potential. Injuries and a lack of national TV coverage did these guys in.

PG Chris Paul
SG Kevin Martin
SF Gerald Wallace
PF Blake Griffin
C Greg Oden

Hipster Team
Not necessarily made up of hipsters, but full of “underground,” “buzz,” and “cult” picks. One of these picks, I am told, is “ironic.” Bonus Rorschach test: if you scoff at these picks for being too obvious: what does that say about you? If you scoff at these picks for being too irrelevant: what does that say about you?

PG Brandon Jennings
SG Rudy Fernandez
SF Luke Walton
PF Serge Ibaka
C Ian Mahinmi

Thomas’s Psychosexual Dream Team
The heroes and actors of Thomas’s over active imagination and bizarre repressed desires. Fully bearded and soft on the inside. Perfect. They would probably win about five straight championships if they weren’t too busy being metaphors for Thomas's psyche.

PG Derek Fisher
SG Dwyane Wade
SF Lebron James
PF Troy Murphy
C Pau Gasol


All Destiny Team
This one is just for fun. Listen, I know this can’t happen, but here it is. Of the possible free-agent super teams that can be created, by necessity, the best ones involve LeBron James and Dirk Nowitzki. They complement each other far better than LeBron with his mini-me in Wade or the skilled, but distinctly unfreakishly singular Bosh and Stoudemire. If you start talking about Joe Johnson and Rudy Gay I will laugh in your face. In any event, this scenario supposes that LeBron signs with Chicago and through a series of fanciful sign and trades, gets rid of Hinrich and Deng and brings in Dirk and noble Ray Allen, who signs for a relatively low contract to be apart of this new superteam. Ray and Dirk offer the three-point shooting LeBron has always needed. Noah offers the gifts of a true center and defensive anchor, while Rose offers a harmonizing, slashing counterpoint to LeBron’s game. Maybe this would be slightly more possible in New Jersey with Harris and Lopez playing the part of the young core, but this dream is just too beautiful.

PG Derrick Rose
SG Ray Allen
SF LeBron James
PF Dirk Nowitzki
C Joachim Noah

All Love in the Time of LeBron Team
“For exemplifying the spirit of the blog and all of it’s ridiculousness.”

PG Steve Nash
SG Allen Iverson
SF LeBron James
PF Channing Frye
C Shaquille O’Neal

Beard of the Year
Baron Davis

He faced a stern challenges from young James Harden, but Boom’s beard abides.

Dreamhaunter of the Year
Tyler Hansbrough

I don’t get it, but it’s just a fact.

Team of the Year
Nuggets, Thunder, Suns

I couldn’t decide. For my money, these are the three most fun teams in the league. The Suns seemed destined to fade fast. The end of the Nuggets as we know them looms. Enjoy these two teams in their twilight and then bask in the glorious dawn of the Thunder. May they reign forever.

Disappointment of the Year
Wizards, Hawks, and Clippers

I couldn’t decide again. I thought each of these teams were going to be legitimately good but they were each undone by their respective weaknesses: fingergunz, poor coaching, and being the Clippers.

Coach of the Year
Alvin Gentry, Suns.

Is any other coach in this league so loved by his team? Does any coach in the league love his team as much as Alvin? We are all about love here: it’s in the name.

Love in the Time of LeBron Player of the Year
Chaning Frye

You all know why.

Love in the Time of LeBron Champion of the Year
Ron Artest.

Everything is coming up Ron Ron. Let's stop here, fellow champions.

Thomas Dreams About Being Lebron's Nanny

Today, we have another entry from the subconscious of Very Special Dream Correspondent Thomas. You may remember his dream about getting in a hot tub with Derek Fisher, the one where he talks to Troy Murphy about his venereal disease, and the one where he uncovers Dwyane Wade's propensity for human sacrifice. You know how we love dreams about basketball players, so I happily send this Freudian delight on to you, dear reader. If you'd like to submit your own dream, email me at loveinthetimeoflebron@gmail.com.

SPAKE THOMAS:

This started like a normal dream: I'm at dinner with some grad student friends. Our drinks just came, but before I can take a sip, my boss texts me. This is normal, I tell my dream self, because my boss is Lebron James, and I am nanny to his children.

Apologizing for having to leave, I depart, but apparently everyone knows this happens a lot (there was a weird sense of me watching myself, saying "these people should not be acting this way because this is not my life"). Lebron Junior apparently wants to have a playdate, thus am I summoned. On the way to the Casa del Rey (that's what I called it!) I am accosted by a busload of Duke fans. We start talking trash, but then they shut up because Lebron has come to the street to tell me the specifics of his son's wishes. Lebron tells them to say "hey" to Coach K, then nods me inside.

Once in the house, I walk over to the crib where his newborn daughter is (I don't know if this is accurate) and pick her up. We move to the kitchen and I begin to make a bottle while Lebron gives me the details of his son's party. Something to do with basketball, predictably. Anyway, Lebron departs to go play, Junior's friends come over and leave, then I teach Junior how to play chess. This is how Lebron finds us when he returns, hunched over a chessboard, me with a baby on my lap bottle feeding her. He pays me cash, and I wake up.

Lakers Busting Mack Even In Your Dreams

Probably some more UNC stuff to come, but for now, let's switch back to NBA mode. Which, for this blog, means I share with you the creepy basketball dreams my buddy Thomas has. I thought I was sufficiently disturbed by the thing about Tyler Hansbrough, Troy Murphy and venereal disease, but Thomas gives Freud and Love in the Time of Lebron readers some more delightful psychosexual weirdness to chew on.

SPAKE THOMAS:

So, a girlfriend and I (it was unclear who it was. . .no, really!) broke into the Lakers' locker room, and started rampantly humping in the rehab-therapy part of the facility, with the hot-tub and big-ass yoga ball playing important roles. It was fun, until I look up and Pau Gasol and Derek Fisher are standing there in their towels looking at us, then shrug, de-robe, and get into the hot-tub. Needless to say, looking at a naked Pau was enough for me to lose my mojo. Then she looked back at me (yeah that's right!) and asked, "What happened? Geez!" before my snooze alarm rang, thankfully.

Yikes. Some hack bloggers would try to tie this in to Hot Tub Time Machine. But a hack-ier and lazier blogger would simply reference the possibility without finding even a slightly clever way to work that in.

Send your dreams about sexual embarrassment and the Los Angeles Lakers or any other sort of basketball dreams to loveinthetimeoflebron@gmail.com.

A Dream About Tyler Hansbrough, Troy Murphy, and Venereal Disease

Okay, so here's the deal. I'm a little bummed about Carolina's losing skid and I owe you some thinking about What Carolina Can Do To Turn It Around. Is the loss to Wake Forest a refutation of the UNC Should Shoot More Threes Doctrine? Or is it a simple confirmation of the Will Graves Theory? A little of both? I need time to sulk and think about it, but I'll get back to you.

In the meantime, I'd like to return to an old favorite feature of mine: Dreams. In between the wide array of dreams from girls imagining being Tyler Hansbrough's girlfriend, Special Dream Correspondent Thomas weighed in with an account of Dwyane Wade's human sacrifice habit and playing in a band with Tyler Hansbrough. Well, Thomas is back with a dream he had last fall about the Pacer's frontcourt. Yes, really, and no, there isn't anything about Roy Hibbert, you weirdos. Here it is:

So, I met Tyler Hansbrough at an event, mentioning that I went to UNC and that Troy Murphy was my favorite player. Tyler gives me Troy's phone number, so I call him up, on speaker phone with Tyler listening, and ask him why he's been out for the past nine games with a back injury. Troy tells me that the back injury is a cover, that he really has an advanced case of syphilis from sleeping with so many beautiful women. He can't play basketball because his wang hurts so bad. So I hang up, and Tyler looked at me and says "Gross, huh?" Then we part ways.

Disgusting, Thomas: Troy Murphy should be no one's favorite player. Believe it or not, this same man has written a very nice guest post that will be up shortly about John Milton and Lebron James. I'm not making this up. Want to get in on the dream-sharing? Have a nice guest-post about Chaucer and Kobe? Send me an email: loveinthetimeoflebron@gmail.com.

Tyler Hansbrough is Some Cosmic Archetype

Tyler Hansbrough continues to haunt all of our dreams. If you have had a dream about Tyler Hansbrough or any other basketball player, I'd like to hear about them. Email your stories about how you fell in love with a short-armed power-forward-playing manchild to loveinthetimeoflebron@gmail.com.

Special Dream Correspondent Lorelle checks in with the following VISION OF LOVE:

It was a dark and stormy night. Or maybe it was balmy but otherwise pleasant. Anyway, so I'm in Best Buy (first sign that this is not real life) about to check out when I see that Tyler Hansborough is in line in front of me. We strike up a conversation and out of nowhere he takes me on his arm and we perambulate about the store. I spy Eminem flipping through his own stuff in the CD section (tacky) and persuade Tyler to stand next to him for comparison.* Em has no idea what he's doing and we giggle conspiratorily at his expense. Tyler asks if I'd like to go out with him sometime and I agree. The next day he calls and invites me to come hang out with him and the team. When I get there, the team that he is referring to is a bunch of 4th graders he coaches and has taken to the Walmart McDonalds for a post-game celebration. I'm a little pissed because like, srsly Tyler, this is it? But he doesn't seem to notice my disappointment and enthusiastically waves for me to join him at a booth next to the Playspace.** All the little boys are like "ooooooh Tyler has a girlfrieeeeeeeeend" and he blushes and introduces me to the kids, "Hey guys, this is my Lorelle I've been telling you about." It was all very sweet, if simple. JUST LIKE TYLER.

*This is a direct result of my friend accusing me of thinking all white people look alike for comparing the two.
**Inaccurate because I don't think they put playspaces in Walmart Micky-D's.

If there existed a YouTube video of Tyler Hansbrough highlights set to a mash-up of Eminem rapping over "Dreams" by the Cranberries, you can rest assured that I would put it right here. If you find such a thing, send me the link or your dreams to loveinthetimeoflebron@gmail.com

Introducing Tyler to Mom

I'm still collecting dreams about basketball players. Send your dreams to loveinthetimeoflebron@gmail.com and we can all be collectively weirded out over your penchant for frosting and Vince Carter. In any case, it's time to share some facts and dreams:

FACT: Dreaming about dating Tyler Hansbrough is really common. Even if you don't follow basketball. Even if you think he is stupid.

Here is a dream about dating Tyler Hansbrough from Special Dream Correspondent Juli:

I have a somewhat recurring dream that Tyler Hansbrough is my college boyfriend. It bears mentioning that I go to the University of North Carolina and have for the past few years, but I don't follow basketball. He is just a giant wandering around the town. A bizarre local attraction who I spot occasionally: more yeti than person. Always blurry, always peripheral, he lumbers into Carrburitos on Cinco de Mayo and buries his melancholy with chilli cheese fries at Joe's Joint late at night while the tourists gawk and take pictures.

In any case, I've had this dream three or four times: In these dreams, he's my boyfriend. He's dumb, but really sweet, which is pretty much how I imagine he actually is. He's also shy and awkward, but I find that goofy and charming. Whenever I bring him home to meet my parents, they are always understandably thrilled. My mother always takes me aside and nudges me, saying "We're so glad you finally brought home a nice young man." My mom doesn't even talk like that. She does really like Tyler Hansbrough and is always excited when I mention seeing him around town. I guess he somehow represents everything my mom would want in a boyfriend of mine. Actually, not so much in a boyfriend of mine, but in the daughter she wished she had.

So there's that.

Anyway, he inevitably breaks up with me when I ask him to go to the Nightlight. I guess it's just not his Scene. And whenever he breaks the news to me, he's always wearing Carolina blue seersucker: the embodiment of pretty much everything I hate. I think I am upset afterwards, but by the time I wake up, I'm sort of relieved. I don't think I could deal with the pressure of being Psycho-T's girlfriend.

Usually, I have it before I have to bring home some guy to meet my mom. I guess these dreams will (sadly) have to stop now that he is a college graduate.

Send your dreams about Tyler Hansbrough or other basketball players to loveinthetimeoflebron@gmail.com

Dreaming About Tyler Hansbrough

I'd mentioned in the past that I am interested in collecting your basketball player dreams. This is still true. The current winner of the Bizarrely Occupying All of Our Dreams Award is Tyler Hansbrough who's featured in an alarming number of accounts of dreams that I've collected. This is apparently not uncommon.

Anyway, I hope to hear more accounts of dreams about Tyler Hansbrough or any other basketball player. You should send your dreams to loveinthetimeoflebron@gmail.com.

Special Dream Correspondent Elizabeth dates Tyler in hers:

In my dream, Tyler Hansbrough and I met-cute somewhere on campus and got to talking, and I realized that he was actually reserved and quite intelligent, and tired of people only liking him because of basketball. He found it refreshing that I didn't really know anything about basketball. We started dating and the rest of the dream was just us going about our campus lives together-- eating at the dining hall, browsing the new releases at the bookstore, walking to class. Lots of other girls were incredulous that we were dating, and by the end of the dream I was considering breaking up with him, just because it was stressful to have everyone look at me all the time and make judgments.

Again, please, please send your dreams about Tyler Hansbrough or other basketball players to loveinthetimeoflebron@gmail.com

Dreams: Human Sacrifice, Alien Bloodsport, and Tyler Hansbrough on the Keys

The first entry in this space began with me recalling a dream in which Wayne Ellington sacrificed me Aztec-style on top of a pyramid. This was weird. However, I'm not the only one who has bizarre dreams about basketball players. Special Dreams Correspondent Thomas sends along three dreams about basketball that are recounted below. If you have a dream featuring professional or collegiate basketball players, I strongly urge you to send a description and, when possible, a potential interpretation of your ballin' related dream. You can send these dreams, along with any other questions, comments, or silliness to loveinthetimeoflebron@gmail.com.

Here is a dream about Dwayne Wade at a church picnic:

The dream begins with me at a church picnic. This isn't odd; I volunteer with a church that throws lunches and stuff all the time. Then Dwyane Wade shows up in his jersey and band-aid. I go over and talk to him about his season and ask him what his secret is. He says "I must sacrifice a virgin before every game." Then he grabs this little girl and runs away with her shrieking over his shoulder. I try to run after him, but come on, he's D-Wade, and he gets away.

Here is a dream about Tyler Hansbrough:

Tyler Hansbrough is a recurrent figure in my dreams. The only one I remember right now is one where my friend Brandon, Tyler, and myself all start a band. I'm on drums, Tyler's on keys, and Brandon's on bass. I interpret this as my attempt at ordering my id, ego, and superego through projection and sublimation. I've always wanted to start a band, and maybe I projected myself onto Tyler. I honestly think it's because we have the same initials and are highly driven white dudes.

Here is a dream about basketball as alien bloodsport ala Space Jam:

The human race had been taken over by aliens, and they had organized us on these long hanging clasps that attached to a conveyor belt, kind of like the doors in "Monsters, Inc." Each human had a number, and when the aliens wanted us they pressed our number and we zoomed around to the take-off point. They had this sport kind of like the Aztec sport, Tlatchtli, in that the losers were sacrificed to the gods, but it was basketball. Anyway, I became the bloodsport alien basketball superstar and got to roam around off my coathangar. I found the breeding pits where the aliens kept women, and I found my friend there and tried to rescue her, but she refused to abandon her alien baby.

Please, please: If you have dreams like this about basketball, email me at loveinthetimeoflebron@gmail.com

Wayne Ellington, Human Sacrifice, and an Ill-Advised Manifesto

In March of 2009, I had a dream that, on a Mayan altar, Wayne Ellington sacrificed me to the gods. For the sake of historical context, let me clarify a few things:

1. In March of 2009, Wayne Ellington was the starting shooting guard of the University of North Carolina men's basketball team.
2. At the time, this basketball team was engaged in the NCAA basketball tournament, in pursuit of a championship which they did end up winning.
3. By physical description and comparison to archaelogical findings, the altar was actually most likely an Aztec altar, but in my mind, I thought of it as a Mayan altar. To clarify, the altar was on top of a pyramid and done with a knife, which is more of an Aztec thing, while it seems that the Mayans preferred to throw their sacrifices down sacred sinkholes to appease the water god, Chaac.

Why am I telling you this? To emphasize two things. The first and most important is that I think about basketball a lot. Specifically, basketball played by the University of North Carolina men and women's teams as well as the kind played by the National Basketball Association has been a source of great joy for me. I love watching, talking, and thinking about basketball. It's on my mind so much that it's not that unusual for me to dream about the Tar Heels third scoring option, though the part where he sacrifices me on top of a pyramid is, admittedly, odd. In any case, if I'm thinking about basketball so much and I enjoy talking and thinking about it so much, I thought that I might also enjoy writing about it. Hopefully, you will enjoy reading about it too. Hence, this blog.

The second thing the anecdote about the dream illustrates is how I think about basketball. In short, I like to think of basketball mythologically. When I was young, when I watched basketball, I just saw ten guys running up and down the court, bouncing a ball. Even with the sophistication of understanding the game better, my enjoyment of the sport was still as dry as the boxscore or an AP recap. I didn't truly come to love the game until I started to see basketball in terms of Epic Narratives. Once you start looking at Epic Narratives, a whole new world opens up. A basketball game, taken bare, in a vacuum, is not an event of great moral significance. Carolina vs. Duke, on the other hand, does have moral significance on the planes of class, race, and philosophy. If you look at a player as simply an athlete, they are inherently not as interesting as when you look at that same player as the messianic, Chosen One. Basketball is just a silly game played by some incredible athletes, and while I appreciate that on some level, what makes it more interesting to me is the stories that we make up, the Epic Narratives we craft. In short, I like basketball because I like the mythology we devise to make it all make sense and to keep it fun.

So now, I hope to use this space to share with you some thoughts about basketball in all of its mythic glory. This isn't a new way of doing things and this kind of thinking about basketball has lots of antecedents which I will certainly be linking to as appropriate. A specific mention of FreeDarko is necessary, however: I'm quite sensitive to and agree with most FD sensibilities, be they philosophical, stylistic, or aesthetic and I'm sure that their particular approach will have a heavy impact on this blog. If FreeDarko is the modernist (post-modernist?) reaction to the realist approach of sports journalism, then hopefully this blog will help to more fully fill the niche of magical realism and surrealism. That looks really stupid seeing it in print, but hey, that's what everyone else wanted from basketball writing right?