If life really is measured on f###s. L.A. guard of the Clippers kennel, Patrick Beverley has none left to give.
Frankly my dear, in Hollywood this guy doesn’t give a damn.
He doesn’t care that the Lakers drafted and dealt him like Pau Gasol’s younger brother Marc (even if for fuel he once may have). They’ve made that young core mistake time (Julius) after time (D’Angelo) and history will Anthony Davis itself again. He doesn’t care about LeBron James and his Hollywood throne. Or even Lonzo Ball and his opening night. He doesn’t care that the Lakers are the Tinseltown toast of Hollywood and L.A.’s team. He doesn’t care that they share STAPLES like borrowing office supplies from the next cubicle. They aren’t even in the playoffs right now. But his team is. Covering up banners with the balls to raise one of their own one day. He cares about this side of L.A. Their way.
Patrick Beverley doesn’t care about the Houston Rockets, James Harden, Russell Westbrook, or the Oklahoma City Thunder like Kevin Durant. And he doesn’t care about him or Steph Curry, Klay Thompson, Draymond Green, DeMarcus Cousins or any Splash Brother Warriors from Oakland to San Francisco. You can talk about how Kevin Durant cares about him though. Look at that look of love for the game he’s bringing on his face in the midst of all that trash talking respect disguised as hate. I haven’t seen Kevin this happy in years. For all that emotion K.D. has received ever since he switched shores to the Bay, this is the only time he’s loved this type of hate. Because it’s not that. It’s just the passion of competition. And there’s nothing “just” about that, although all is fair in love and basketball war. Because like the late, great Charlie Murphy once said about Prince serving pancakes and behind the backs on ‘Chappelle’s Show’ epic real Hollywood stories, “this cat can ball man”.
Would anyone like some grapes?
I guarantee Patrick Beverley doesn’t care if you do. Like he doesn’t even care that Durant dominates this photo that speaks a thousand words or more for this article like we were shamelessly trying to bait more clicks. When really we’re trying to show how David looks in the face of Goliath from his vantage point. Not to mention the joy laced with “oh s### this guy’s really got me” look on the face of one of the greatest in the game about to get ejected too for going toe to toe with a super sub. But never underesimate the power of a microwave player like leaving your reheated Subway sandwich in the nuke cooker for too long. No matter how much you blow on it or fan it with you skittish hands, it’ll never quite feel like it’s going to cool off from its magma serving like a deep burn (we’re talking more ‘Big Bang’ Sheldon Cooper Aloe Vera here, more than ‘Anchorman’ Ron Burgundy’s thousand bicep curls that probably started at around nine hundred and ninety nine). Hello Lou Will, 6 Man of all-time, popping nachos after he did the Warriors celebration balloon like fallen Forum ones in Celtics cursed storied Lakerland. He doesn’t care about tacos, this cheese is for all the salsa. Pat Bev doesn’t even care that this Laker fan wishes he would have worn purple and gold like others he still wishes would (miss Zu). Like he probably doesn’t care for this shortened version of his name.
Patrick Beverley won’t even care about this article but we do.
He doesn’t care that the Durant dynasty as hot as Curry from downtown Oak Town are champions for years running more than faucets that leak as much as the splash in the Golden Gate of Golden State’s Pacific. To be specific he doesn’t even care if his team is down 31. Because another 30 points from sweet Lou will turn this game around and into the makings of a all guts to their own glory road, ESPN 30 for 30 documentary as the Clippers clip all that like short back and sides. Just like the place you parlour pool your postgame analysis in the next day as you’re former haircut gets dustpan swept up like many people thought these L.A. kings of the underground would be on their way by now like “we close in half an hour”. But now they stand as underdogs of the year in an end of season award category that should be invented with this guy being it’s de facto MVP for his team. Most Improved? Nah? Patrick Beverley doesn’t care about that.
He doesn’t care about you. The name on the back of your jersey. Or the team on the front. No matter how many people in the stands share those strands. He doesn’t care if he gets in your head like the Spotify song of the moment, or under your skin like that underrated Scarlett Johansson movie that sees her as an alien riding around Scotland in a a truck picking up dudes (why was I not in Glasgow that week?). He doesn’t care that I wasn’t in Glasgow that week. Neither does Scarlett.
What he does care about is his job, his role and his team. And he doesn’t care if he has to get ejected like the passenger seat in James Bond’s old Sean Connery era Aston Martin to do it. He doesn’t care if you’ve just been jettisoned from 007’s car. He doesn’t care if you’re shaken or stirred. You should have worn a seatbelt. He cares about buckling up and down. Guarding the opposing teams best player. Even if it is one of the best in the world right now. And he doesn’t care about switching to the other best player in the world on the same damn team if the occasion calls for it. He doesn’t care about that. He just cares about rising to the occasion. Answering the call. He doesn’t care if Philly are on their phones. He cares about what’s at stake. He cares about making them sweat for every shot, swat or not. He cares that tonight’s he’s going to give his all come tip. Because here’s a tip for you, what Patrick Beverley DOES care about is the game. Like the one Allen Iverson goes out there and dies for. Forget practice. Stepping over Kevin freaking Durant like Ty Lue. Like he 1 through 15 cares about his band of brothers. Like family. Like what he’d give everything for. Sweat after shot. Cheap or invested. Never throwing in the towel, or even taking a Gatorade break. Unlike Young Jeezy he doesn’t even care about how much Gatorade makes. And who even cares about Lob City these days after they threw it all away? Chris Paul, Blake Griffin and even saving Jordan before DeAndre ended up at the Garden like M.J. at his best? That’s all history Doc. He cares about Rivers that run deep. Not the air up there in LAX like the Hollywood Hills, but the grounding reality of what this game is all about. Spalding to hardwood.
Patrick Beverley doesn’t care about 10 points and 5 assists. His line or a career high. All he cares about tonight is that the box score of stats reads a W for the team he gives his blood, sweat and opponents tears for. So here’s for him, whether he cares for it or not. Like being the only player that reminds us of those golden era mined tough 90’s years. Or much like those Oakley and Mase (Rest Peacefully money) Knicks, in stark contrast the grit and grind Grizzlies that this gnarly son of an expletive-we can’t mention like the no f words given again and again in this article-would be perfect for alongside fellow defensive dog back in the day Tony Allen. He doesn’t care that there’s no one like him in a league who needs more players exactly like this. Because believe me you know who does care?
Every other player in this league who has to face him. Because face it. Like him or not he’s the realest thing to happen to this game since hand checking. So you really do have to hand it to him.
But if you don’t? Guess what we don’t give?
MVP Brandon Clarke dominates, leads Grizzlies to 2019 NBA Summer League Title
Canadian Brandon Clarke, the 21st pick of the 2019 Draft dominated the NBA’s annual summer showcase — becoming the first player to take home both tournament and championship game most valuable player honors with a dominant 15 points, 16 rebounds double-double. The No. 8 Memphis Grizzlies the Minnesota Timberwolves 95-92 to win the 2019 NBA Summer League championship.
The former Gonzaga standout added 4 assists, 3 blocks and a steal in 25 minutes.
In six games of summer league action, Clark averaged 14.7 points, 9.8 rebounds, 2 assists and 1.8 blocks per game. The Vancouver native shot 55% from the field and becomes the first ever Canadian to win MVP at the NBA Summer League.
Clarke was also named to the first-team all-NBA Summer League team. Other standouts included fellow Canadians Nickeil Alexander-Walker who joined Clarke on the first-team. Toronto Raptors forward Chris Boucher was named to the second-team.
New Knick RJ Barrett Treated Las Vegas Summer League Like A New York Playground
Magnitudes off the Richter. An earthquake hit Sin City like jackpot in the NBA’s Summer League in Las Vegas, Nevada out in the desert last week.
And as the Jumbo-tron still shook like the music it was pumping, many people in awe inspired attendance would have been forgiven for thinking it was Zion. As the Duke standout and the first pick in the 2019 NBA Draft Williamson made us feel more tremors than Kevin Bacon. As the new New Orleans Pelican burst out the hardwood and flew, man-handling a steal off an opponent who’s just a poster now’s inbounds pass and put back a viscous, signature slam that felt like they still tested atomic bombs out in the Nevada desert overlooking the electric, neon skyline. All whilst new and former teammates respectively, Lonzo Ball, Josh Hart and Anthony Davis looked on with “here comes the big airplane” mouths.
But after the road to Mount Zion’s knee injury lead to more Patrick Ewing ice than up there in Japan’s Mount Fuji, it was better the Blue Devil you know. As the Knicks third pick RJ Barrett ended up moving the needle more over this scorching, seasonal tourney of the youthful future of this association. Looking as good as those beautiful blue Knicks Summer League jerseys that are so clean we want to see them fresh off the press in the the NBA Store in NYC. So much so that even if RJ handed you one of his autographed signatures post game you’d still be like, “you got this in a medium?”
Sounding better than all those thirsty announcers singing “Summer Leeeeague” like The Isley Brothers this time of year classic, ‘Summer Breeze’. Making everything feel fine as he blew through defenders like the Jasmine in my mind. RJ initialed his dynamic debut and mainstream moment. Making Knicks’ fans almost forget that they just lost out on their number one goal, Zion Williamson. Or their free agent duo desire of Kevin Durant and Kyrie Irving, who ended up on the other side of New York, across that bridge from Manhattan in Brooklyn with the Nets…almost. Following the sweated out, hard nosed 90’s were only Jordan and Starks shots got in the way of golden era glory, the Knicks’ now have their first real leader in the post Porzingis era since Syracuse star ‘Melo for the Orangemen.
And he’s not alone. Barrett who was choosing Knicks’ mannequin heads to bucket on New York’s Late Night show with Jimmy Fallon nights before the draft cap has plenty to pass to in a Pelican rivaling young core of young guns, Kevin Knox and Allonzo Trier, new free agent signing Julius Randle (this Pel is still a big ‘cat out of Kentucky like Anthony Davis or DeMarcus Cousins reunited on the Lake Show like purple and gold fans hoped he would be too), Elfrid Payton and of course the soaring Dennis Smith Jr. Not to mention a bolstered bench of Taj Gibson and Reggie Bullock from more than midtown. Call it Chelsea, the Tribeca or even Battery Park after the High-Line of the Meatpacking District. The future of this franchise to the naked eye of ignorance is about to look better than the view from that new Vessel structure in Hudson Yards.
Barrett began in Vegas with some early snake eyes trouble. But rolling the dice again he turned into a killer like Brandon Flowers. The man. Come round. Nothing can break. Nothing can break him down. First he scorched California’s new look King sized Lakers for 21 points, 10 rebounds and three assists. But it was his spell in his last Summer forecast against the Wizards were RJ showed Washington that just like NYC, DC may be America’s capital, but there’s nothing like New York, New York. He was so good you had to check the instant replay twice, with another 21 and 10, two perfect precision passes off cashing in a triple-double chip like he was a team that had both James Harden and Russell Westbrook on their roster roll call. Houston, do you read me?
Averages of 15.4 points, 8.6 rebounds and 4.2 assists in a televised tournament that is basically a glorified practice scrimmage (tell me, do you even know who won the thing?) show he will be above so. The Canadian Maple Mamba has that syrup for your bacon. Even without free agent big names like Kevin and Kyrie who are one more decision away from being journeymen, forget super-teams, the Knicks may have a lifer in RJ from Coach K’s Duke fraternity administration in the association now. Can you relate? Barrett could be brilliant and New York no longer a rotten apple. But a couple of big names away from having their title again in the Mecca of Madison Square Garden’s, World’s Most Famous Arena in bright Times Square lights.
It’s almost a New Year for New York, time for the ball to drop.
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