The following is the beginning of a series where I take the methods and theories researched by The Book of Basketball's author Bill Simmons and plug it into the NBA today. Some theories were presented in examples from the past, others were cracked with simple logic and brought up in the generalities of today's fan, and some were used to describe players of today's game. But anyways. It's a great book. So read it. Or at least read this... please. In Bill Simmons' new book (or shall I say 700+ pages of a rabid NBA genius ranting), the Sports' Guy is the only maniac daring enough to try to swim in some of a fan's greatest joys (like being able to take a stab at Wilt Chamberlain without an entire NBA fanbase wanting you dead) yet still crack some of pro basketball's most frustrating puzzles. On page 37 of the book is where the real journey begins. (Sidenote: I hate to ruin the book for those of you that are looking to get it. I felt the series was a great idea because so much of his gump yet thoroughly explicit logic can be used to perfectly explain today's game and past years of the NBA.) Upon meeting Isiah Thomas, Simmons and one of Boston's most passionately hated stars in all of Boston sports begin to sit down and divulge to some of their most lustfully defended mistakes they've made in their respected careers -- Thomas the one to make the actual decisions and plays within an organization, Simmons being the one to analyze them and put into place. They discuss the Eddy Curry and Zach Randolph deals, where Simmons finds himself inveigled in Thomas' politician-like approach to the transactions. I'll let you find out for yourself how Simmons puts a finger on the trades, and how Thomas explained his reasoning. Then, Simmons pops the question (yes they're in Vegas, but no they're not getting married). How does Isiah Thomas, a man so fiercely ravaged and haunted by some of his career's greatest nightmares, as well as a man so heroically celebrated by the fans of the teams whose uniforms he donned, put "the secret" of basketball into words? What is "The Secret" to basketball, a topic Isiah brought up years ago but never able to finish the sermon? And you have to realize, before I open the curtain, that this is big. I mean, this could be one of the most powerfully religious experiences for you if you follow the religion "basketballian." It's so painstakingly simple, yet such an immense and vast epiphany that it becomes overwhelming to grasp. It's been said in ESPN columns, basketball books, SI pieces, and DIME Magazine masterpieces. It's probably been brought up on unknown BlogSpot hangouts, and launched on major media networks. It's everywhere to see, but you can't recognize it until you witness it yourself. The secret to basketball... isn't about basketball. At all. It can in fact be applied to real life. I'll run down the basics.

1. Holding back your personal selfishness for the benefit of others
2. Only committing to a program that you know can contribute to and promising your fellow peers and co-(insert whatever term will be used for the specific project here) only what you can promise for the benefit of the program
3. Sacrificing whatever treasures you may tightly choose to hold for the benefit of the program IF NECESSARY (trend here is: do what you gotta do for the benefit of whatever you're trying to accomplish)
4. Lastly, and perhaps most vitally, be cautious about what you publicly and privately announce to or about your fellows but still have a trust in them. Separation and tension within the group is the number one killer, from my perspective at least.

Going back to the book, Simmons brings up Cameron Stauth's book The Franchise, where on page 310-311, Zeke talks to reporters in 1989 about how the Pistons have to insure protection against Pat Riley's The Disease of More. It is a basketball related illness that infects an NBA locker room, inflicting disruption within the team and causing it to destroy itself from the inside out. It essentially is a team who wins a championship the previous year and following the title, is unable to maintain its chemistry and success because certain players feel they need "more minutes, more money, more shots." He talks about watching the glory teams of the Celtics and Lakers, watching them play with the same team-oriented feeling year after year, and then watching the Houston and Seattle teams, who each won a championship and then fragmented the year after. Simmons goes on to explain Thomas' methods, breaking down the very mind that led two tough Pistons teams to back-to-back championships. Here's my favorite part:

And that's what Isiah learned while following those Lakers and Celtics teams around: it wasn't about basketball. Those teams were loaded with talented players, yes, but that's not the only reason they won. They won because they liked each other, knew their roles, ignored statistics, and valued winning over everything else. They won because their best players sacrificed to make everyone else happy. They won as long as everyone remained on the same page. By that same token, they lost if any of those three factors weren't in place.

They discuss Detroit's trading of Adrian Dantley because the Teacher (which Simmons calls Dantley's nickname, in an ironic twist) couldn't sacrifice a few of his own minutes for Dennis Rodman to chew up, for defensive purposes. They recall that Dantley began languishing over his loss, ignoring the fact that it was very minor if it would result in a championship, the very thing Dantley could have gotten if he'd stayed steering for the gold. They reminisce the Pistons trading for the recondite Mark Aguirre, who, while less talented than Dantley (Dantley traveled with the Pistons to the Finals the year before by the way), gelled with the team with a more slick and easy attitude. Aguirre was glad to be there, and come the Finals, so were the Pistons. Detroit ended up winning two straight rings, and the late Bad Boys became one of the most distinguished teams of that decade. Who in the NBA does that sound like? No, the team doesn't have to have an Isiah Thomas, a bully like Bill Laimbeer, a sniper like Joe Dumars, and a Hall of Fame mind like Chuck Daly, but the mindset is key. Does it remind you... of the Tim Duncan Spurs? How about... the new Big Three Celtics? Do the 2004-2008 Pistons come to mind? Duncan's Spurs were and still are a well-molded magnificence of a team. The centerpiece, Duncan, feeds off his perimeter swinger, Manu Ginobili, who has a jumpshot and can tear through some of the toughest lanes constructed in the league. Ginobili and Duncan are fed by Tony Parker, who scores in quick, sufficient spurts and little bunches. Parker doesn't play too much defense, but behind him is the human rag doll, Ginobili, willing to take hit after hit if it results in a victory, and Duncan, a fundamentally sound lock-down post guy capable of staying with the best of them (Garnett, Shaq, Chris Bosh). Behind the core of this year's team is Richard Jefferson, a strong small forward sculpted for playing straight-up defense and for causing trouble in the paint. He can slash through big men with his vigorous build and hard dribble, able to finish with his deft legs and powerful upper body. Following Jefferson are a crew of soldiers, compliant when given any task and effectively ready for any possible moment to occur. The Celtics are a different story, with dips at certain times, but you could argue San Antonio has had the same problem in recent years before acquiring Richard Jefferson. Kevin Garnett, adamant about team behavior and chemistry, is the big dog in the locker room and on the court. The players the Celtics acquire are only ones they feel are mentally solid enough to handle the locker room -- which has a reputation for being in order, but loose as well. Contrary to what most media reports say (that the Celtics locker room is easy to be in), how it got that way is a different story. Garnett is both good cop and bad cop; nobody dares to step out of line after a talk with him, and most weren't gutsy enough to test him in the first place (he'll have a chat with them anyways). But only the fiercest are allowed in that clubhouse. The players and coaches refuse to deal with any feral and untamed players that spew nonsense in the locker room. The Celtics play the game in a primitive way. They have a fire-breathing monster that lurks down low in Perk. Boston has a mouthy punk in Garnett, perhaps the team's version of Sam Cassell -- only more talented. Garnett can put the ball in the hole and in a split second be drooling at the very sight of the offense coming down the floor at his defensive position. We have a hearty warrior in Pierce, a cogent shooter and wise man when it comes to driving and footwork. We have a class act in Ray Allen, a man who gets the job done (primarily from behind the arc) and doesn't say much more. To top it all off, we have a young speed demon in Rondo, a magician on the hardwood and a monkey of a rebounder. We have a proud bench, composed of a bulky yet stealthy Glen Davis (Davis is out with an injury for the beginning of the season). He can hit the big shot but has no problem with patching up a rebounding or scoring hole under the glass. Eddie House and Rasheed Wallace are the planes stalking on the perimeter, waiting to bomb at the right moment. Marquis Daniels, playing behind Pierce, is an instant offense/defense guy, playing at multiple positions with the ball-handling skills to streak past any defender, specifically the bigger, slower ones. But, what happened with the 2008-09 C's team? Injuries yes -- mainly Garnett not being able to patrol the team's court attitude. But the sideshows of Rondo's contract, Powe's/Glen Davis' free agency, and the development of Stephon Marbury (hyped up by the press) was too big a storm to calm for Boston's exhausted leaders. This year however, replenished with new teammates and a fresh initiative for a championship, the Celtics are ready to go (with the same foundation players that you can trace back to 07-08). The Pistons were assembled with the same vision: superstar with an alpha dog demeanor, a lead-by-example veteran with an abundance of talent, a young, rising star(s), a big guy with an outside shot, a mean defender, a couple of monster rebounders, and a bench lined up of game analysts. In this case, the superstar would be Billups, the lead-by example vet role would fall to a younger Rip Hamilton, the young, rising star would be an undeveloped Tayshaun Prince/Mehmet Okur, the big guy with the outside shot would be a younger, lighter Rasheed Wallace, the mean defender would be Ben Wallace, and the rebounders would be Ben Wallace and Antonio McDyess. The bench consisted of multiple players dressing up on one/two-year contracts, Lindsey Hunter (one of the few bench players who wasn't in and out), Tony Delk, and Dale Davis. In the 2006 season, Jason Maxiell started to emerge off the bench as well. But, besides the locker room enforcers and string of talent year after year, what do you see? Do you see a good coach? (Greg Popovich, Doc Rivers, and Larry Brown/Flip Saunders.) Do you see depth riding the bench and in the starting lineup? Do you see the scrutinizing players offering advice before, during, and after the game? (Reason number one that's a good sign is because you know you have a team full of high I.Q.'s, and reason number two is that you can see the players/assistants are comfortable enough with the head coaches to ask.) Do you see it all? The key to winning, is simply, having all players carry and enjoy themselves only the members of a proper team should (any Knicks fans from after the Jeff Van Gundy coaching era and fans of the Jail Blazers/late Randolph days in Portland can put their hands down now). The key to being a good individual player without causing distraction even if there is something irking you is essentially the same thing. You will be rewarded if you stay patient and cooperate. Cooperation is CRUCIAL. Tim Duncan has stayed in San Antonio all his career for a reason. Kevin Garnett got drafted out of high school and was able to stay with Minnesota for a reason (honestly, don't penalize the guy for being traded. The Timberwolves needed a change because everyone could see he was aging, and all the players around him weren't inclined to stay, even with Garnett being the MVP). Shaq on the other hand, despite being a great player for the FIRST couple years, has been traded on countless occasions because he causes problems. And there's no excuse here for fans of the big man (I'm one myself, so I understand that you're a bit confused right now). Even if he wasn't the player to spark the flame wars between him and Hardaway in Orlando, the Kobe-Shaq feud in L.A., the whining of D-Wade and O'Neal in Miami, and hanging time bomb lingering between Amar'e, Steve Nash, and Shaq in Phoenix, he was still a part of all that. Because of him, for some reason (likely due to the fact that he was never good at establishing a base at the beginning of his career within the team, and nobody knew their place), players felt they deserved another serving of what they already had. When he came to Cleveland, everyone was ecstatic. "We finally got a big guy! We're going to win! Shaq's got a great personality, LeBron and him will get along fine!" Yeah, even if Shaq and LeBron do manage to stay friends, I don't know what his teammates were thinking when he said this:

My motto is "Win a ring, for the King."

Hmm. Um. Hello?? Anybody? What's going through J.J. Hickson's mind, the guy who, ya know, he tutors in practice? Or Delonte West, the now apparent psychopath of the team? How about Mike Brown, the head coach of the Cleveland squad? The point is, team first, me second. That's what leads you to hanging a banner up in the rafters. That's what triggers the confetti, the parade, the wild roaring of cheers and cries of joy. That's the secret to basketball.

Tagged as: basketball, Bill Simmons, Book of Basketball, Boston Celtics, Chauncey Billups, Cleveland Cavaliers, Detroit Pistons, Isiah Thomas, Kevin Garnett, Los Angeles Lakers, Miami Heat, NBA, Orlando Magic, Phoenix Suns, San Antonio Spurs, Shaquille O'Neal, Tim Duncan