As Ew Like It

It's been a decade since he last played pro hoops and earlier this month he turned 50, but that isn't stopping Patrick Ewing from restarting his signature sneaker line, which has been inactive longer than the former Knicks star. Ewing Athletics will return to the retail market tomorrow, rolling out initially in New York City, with the 33 Hi Retro. We have no recollection of this brand, active for about 5-6 years in the early-to-mid-'90s - and we remember such short-lived sensations as British Knights and L.A. Gear - so the $100 price for the Hi strikes us as high; to put business in basketball terms, we view it as throwing up a brick. His footwear, unlike his footwork, was forgettable and featureless (where was the inflatable device?). We suggest selling a shoe more suited to his advancing age: the Ewingtip.

Lew AlCinder Blocks

The Lakers are finally (sky)hooking up Kareem Abdul-Jabbar with a statue outside of the Staples Center. In the 23 years since his retirement, he's seen shrines set up for the logo Jerry West, Magic Johnson and...Chick Hearn? The voice of reason should state sonorously that the league's all-time leading scorer be immortalized ahead of the voice of the team. We were starting to think the stadium sponsor's easy button would be bronzed before him. One possible reason for the honor's hold-up: the Lakers thought he didn't work hard enough on defense and didn't really try, except during the playoffs*.

*start at :30 into the clip, unless you want to watch Jerry Sandusky moonlighting as a pilot.

No Pacific Plans*

When one of the Maloof brothers asks, "Which way to the beach?," he's asking for directions to the dunes in VA, not CA. Rumors, like ocean waters, are swirling that the Sacramento Kings are plotting a possible relocation some 2,900 mi away to Virginia Beach. The city's mayor confirmed there will be a Tuesday meeting with team officials and cable company Comcast would work with the city to construct an arena. However, the Hampton Roads area has been down this road before, as a candidate considered when the Charlotte Hornets went hive hunting (the big sleazy, ex-owner George Shinn, chose the Big Easy - proving he sure knew how to Picayune a site where there's as little support for the squad as there is for the newspaper). Seattle and Anaheim are other places in pursuit, so resettling on the east coast is not a shore thing.

Not only did Mark Cuban fail to acquire his prized PG, he also fell short in retaining his one from the past season, Jason Kidd, and he's rationalizing the former rebuff, while ranting about the latter one. Oh, plus Jason Terry took off, too. Maybe Cuban should spend less time on Shark Tank and more time in a think tank. Here's a million-dollar business idea: focus on your multi-million-dollar business.

*but perhaps some Atlantic ones

The Rummage Diary

Good news for the Phoenix Suns, Michael Beasley will be arriving with, literally, less baggage. Last weekend, there was an estate sale at the house Beasley was renting in Minnesota. According to attendee and journalist Joan Niesen, there was a bevy of bizarre bric-a-brac that wasn't befitting of a basketball player, such as Swedish screenplays, medical textbooks and a set of salt and pepper shakers shaped like bunnies. Those belongings don't seem to belong - except on Antiques Roadshow - but perhaps in his spare time Beasley was studying cinematography and anatomy, while lounging on pile of frilly pillows.

Maybe not every millionaire athlete buys Bentleys, maybe some buy baubles. Either that or he hired an elderly interior decorator - how else to explain glass grapes (because edible fruit isn't fragile enough)? Beasley has had past problems with possession, but it's his possessions that leave us perplexed.

Pay Through the Toes

LeBron James garnered gold, but footwear fanatics will have to give theirs away to buy his shoes. After rampant reports that Nike's new LeBron X, slated for a fall release, will retail for upwards of $300, the company clarified that would be for a limited edition which includes motion sensors that will measure vertical leap (you can sure jump higher when your wallet's three Benjamins lighter), and the base model will sell for the affordable amount of $180, a bargain for the bourgeois (just 25 hours of labor at minimum wage will secure you shiny swooshes). For that sadly standard for the sport, yet still staggering sum, you could buy 12 pairs of Stephon Marbury's sneakers - if only they were available anymore (starbury.com lists both lines of his $14.98 kicks as being out of stock). Call us cheap (and algebra airheads), but spending for X would be as excruciating an exercise as solving for x was in seventh grade.

High-end hightops are in high demand, as evidenced by the free-for-all over an All-Star edition in February, that turned Foot Locker into the Hurt Locker. The Wall Street Journal reports that Nike has increased prices of its products by between 5-10% from last year. If this trend continues, soon the support consumers will care about from their footwear will be financial.

Great Ball of China

In a charity game in Shanghai comprised of Chinese celebrities, Kobe Bryant scored 68 points in the 15-minute second half after sitting out the first (he didn't plan to play, but was pressed to since his side was losing, the opposition's lead padded by popular demand - 20 points were tacked on via text*). That's a rate of 4.5 points per minute. With that sort of prolific production, he was a one-worker fastbreak factory. Kobe also strummed an electric guitar at centercourt with cheerleaders encircling him. It was a chance to show off a solo before he showed off - solo.

Vivek Shah, a student, spotted Brooklyn Nets CEO Brett Yormark on the street in NYC and struck up a conversation. Yormark was impressed - considering that, until recently, Nets players weren't even recognized, much less front-office folks - so he invited Shah to tour the workplace, then offered him an internship. It all happened so fast, someone in the video documenting it should've said, "on Yormark, ready, set, go!"

*the Chinese are permitted to vote to pile on points in a purposeless basketball game, but not for their political leaders. Makes sense.

Chandler Bling

Espn.com has begun ranking every NBA player, in reverse order, from 500th to first. You'd have to be more die-hard than Bruce Willis to recognize most of the 34 John Does judged so far, such as #470 Jerome Dyson, who apparently sucks as much upright as a regular Dyson. It must drive guys such as #482 Morris Almond nuts to be so low, and despite what his name suggests, gladness can't be what #466 Mickell Gladness is feeling about his pitiful place. Juwan Howard #476 has faded from "fab" to drab, while #472 Mike Bibby should put on a parachute to prevent plummeting further. At the very bottom is another name worth noting: Eddie Curry. That has to hurt, especially since his former "Baby Bulls" buddy, Tyson Chandler, just won gold at the Olympics, while the only Gold the oft-overweight Curry is grabbing is Rold Gold. Maybe Eddie can commiserate with another recently wronged Curry: Ann.

Possibly unsatisfied with the 8-carat, $4 million-dollar ring her husband gave her as a sorry-for-sleeping around gift in 2003, Vanessa Bryant has her sights set on a ring that, unlike her forgiveness, can't be bought. "I certainly would not want to be married to someone that can't win championships," Vanessa Bryant is quoted as saying, being forthcoming in a forthcoming New York magazine interview. We have one question: Do fantasy basketball championships count? If so, then Yahoo! - that's both an exclamation of elation and also the site we won them on - because once she sees our titles, it won't be long before she changes her title to Mrs. NBA (B)All Day.

Weights Loss

It seems gym ownership isn't working out for Michael Jordan. A Chicago facility is facing foreclosure and Jordan stands to suffer a greenback setback of as much as $1.5 million should it shutter, so he might be looking for somebody to spot him - some cash. When it comes to bankrolling a business, just like running an NBA franchise, Jordan doesn't know squat.

According to an adage often applied in shampoo commercials, you never get a second chance to make a first impression, so in his introductory press conference with the Lakers, Dwight Howard demonstrated his Kobe Bryant impression, deepening his voice in describing the welcoming phone call he received. Howard was his happy-go-lucky former self, announcing that impersonations of Metta World Peace and Pau Gasol were in the works. The reason Howard was at ease and channeling his inner Jim Carrey was because he knows he doesn't have to carry this team.

Gold Mettle

First, Kobe Bryant, Kevin Durant and Carmelo Anthony all took turns torching Argentina on Friday (playing well was the best revenge for Carmelo). Then, Team USA went out and earned first in a grueling gold medal game against the size of Spain, featuring the Gasol brothers and naturalized Spaniard Serge Ibaka. It was a tall order, but in the end, the team with only one true center prevailed over one with a trio of them, reaching the heights that were presumed but not promised.

Ironically, as an object was being hung around their necks, a great weight was being lifted off their shoulders. If you had any doubts whether the precious metal was regarded as a precious medal by the players, all you had to do was look at and listen to Kobe Bryant afterwards. In his long consolation hug with Lakers teammate Pau Gasol, a man thought of as callous was conspicuously compassionate. It was a reminder that the Olympics bring out the best in everyone.*

*except that psycho, private part-puncher, Nicholas Batum.

The Price is Dwight

L.A. Lakers, come on down! The Orlando Magic finally found a contestant eager to play a game involving a great that was getting to be grating. The Lakers underbid, yet still succeeded in the showcase showdown, snatching the big prize: the league's best big man. The Magic were content to clear out Howard for a crappy consolation gift - the equivalent of a chinet set or a lifetime supply of off-brand motor oil - in Al Harrington, Aaron Afflalo, Nikola Vucevic, Moe Harkless and three future draft picks - one each from the trio of other teams included. Two other all-stars were traded - Andrew Bynum and active Olympian Andre Iguodala - but neither are moving to the Magic Kingdom; their final destinations are Philly and Denver, respectively, where Iguodala will run and gun with the nimble Nuggets, while Bynum might be one and done with the speculative Sixers, who hope Bynum will be hooked on his hometown team.

The seismic swap doesn't leave the Magic empty-handed (Afflalo is above-average), but it might mean that they're empty-headed*. They let the Lakers convert their cantankerous center for the superior and slightly less sulky one, which resulted in a restocking of their twin towers of power. Although not the level of larceny at work in landing Gasol, the buy-low scenario made it easy for the Lakers to say "bye" to the bi-polar Bynum. For Orlando, the headache is gone, but the massive migraine will start soon. Better pop some Superman-strength Advil.

*We recommend having the executives spayed and neutered.

Down Under Goes Australia

Mostly missing in action in the Olympics and held scoreless in the first half, Kobe Bryant piled up 20 points in the last 20 minutes of the game to assert himself against Australia. Kobe, who had been viewing voluminous victories from the distance of the bench, this time was involved late and did it from distance - connecting on six three-pointers - to distance Team USA from its feisty foe in the fourth quarter.

Kobe wasn't the only awesome American versus the Aussies, as LeBron James assembled the first Olympic triple-double ever by a U.S. player, providing 11 points, 14 rebounds and 12 assists. Patty Mills (26 points) and his mates didn't play patty-cake, they came to compete, and came close to gutting it out, even without Andrew Bogut in the lineup. Australia went on an 11-0 tear to open the third, showing they could strike the stars and not be star-struck. But Bryant buried three straight threes during a 17-2 burst, so that before long, even Australia's costumed kangaroo was congratulating him. Like the marsupial mascot, Kobe had a special spring in his step.

Cruel Summer Camp

If the word "camp" is, as John Waters once defined it on the Simpsons, "the tragically ludicrous, the ludicrously tragic," then Dwight Howard not attending the camp for kids that carries his name is just that: camp. Howard had already delayed the annual two-day event by six weeks because his is in L.A. rehabbing, but backing it up turned to backing out, due to a bad bad, so the $199 registration fee will bring backup Andrew Nicholson - who not even the league's website can show you what he looks like (attendees will have to identify him by his Canadianness, such as the way he pronounces "Orlando")- to the young'uns. Just because Howard's an unhappy camper doesn't mean he has to make his own campers unhappy, too. Howard's acting more childish than any youth who signed up.

If you don't tire of learning Jeremy Lin news, you'll want to keep track of the Linformation that Taiwan tire company Maxxis struck a deal to sponsor the Houston Rockets. Like their rival manufacturer, Maxxis is hoping for a Goodyear out of Lin. There's a more obvious brand that should've burned rubber to link itself with Houston's new PG. After all, you can't spell "Michelin" without 'lin.'

A Low Blowout

Team USA learned how to change a close contest into a cinch: let loose the league's three-time scoring champion. What was a mere one-point lead at halftime mushroomed into a 26-point advantage after a titanic third quarter, as a dead-eye Durant drained five threes (and, by himself, equaled Argentina's output in the turnaround third, with 17 points), which drained the energy of an aggressive Argentina team.

Unable to halt Durant hitting a slew of shots, Argentina could only respond with a cheap shot, as Facundo Campazzo appeared to hit Carmelo Anthony in what we'll call his Manu-region. Maybe in Argentine culture junk-jabbing is the cruel cousin of trash-talking. The cajones check caused a crimson-cheeked Coach K to chirp at Louis Scola and spend the rest of the game in his comfort zone, chastising the officials. Thankfully, former Secretary of State, Condolezza Rice, who was sitting in the stands, didn't have to dispense diplomacy (Campazzo did apologize for the unsportsmanlike act, albeit not to the aggrieved, but instead to Kobe Bryant).

Now that preliminary round play is over, Argentina and the U.S. could convene for the third straight semifinals in the Olympics if both win their quarterfinal match-ups. Should the squads square off a second time in London, we expect the sequel to be every bit as testes testy.

'Ello, 'Melo*

As Nigerian author Chinua Achebe is aware, Things Fall Apart. In this instance, that 'thing' was their basketball team. The good news for Nigeria is that they scored 73 points, which is the most a foe has totaled against Team USA in the 2012 Olympics thus far. The not nearly as good news is that they lost by 83 points, effortlessly eradicated by the widest winning margin in Olympic hoops history, as well as the highest amount of points. Both records and their rivals' resolve were broken.

Nigeria's nightmare manifested itself in the form of Carmelo Anthony, who made the most of his 14 minutes of action, exploding like a stick of dynamite dressed as a small forward, for 37 points, setting a U.S. mark. Anthony's shooting was so hot (13-16 from the field) he might've melted the nets. His fantastic firing from beyond the arc - he hit 10 of 12 treys - was beyond belief. The team as a whole torched the twine as well, swishing 71% of its attempts. 'Melo was in the zone, while Nigeria was in The Twilight Zone, behind by 24 after the first quarter and it only got worse, as their scoring total steadily declined every subsequent quarter. Right away, Team USA reeled off a 13-0 run and before Nigeria could counter they were buried like a high school class's time capsule - only with more shameful stuff to scrutinize. Coach K recommended that Nigeria flush the game film, but we're not privy to their plans. That brings to mind the British idiom: You win some, you loo some.

*We know, he's cocky, not Cockney.

Name That Tunisia

Don't feel bad if you were unfamiliar with the northern African nation of Tunisia*, they were participating in only their second Olympic basketball game ever when they tipped off against Team USA Tuesday. Watching the first half, you wouldn't have know that was the case. If France, who the U.S. beat the crepe out of, was a test, Tunisia was supposed to be a tune-up, but the beginners didn't back down. Comparisons can cease between Team USA from 20 years ago and this inferior iteration. The Dream Team wouldn't have been down for a majority of the first quarter (the only thing fell flat with the '92 crew was Chris Mullins' coiffure and that was intentional). Coach K had to beckon his bench bunch before a blowout blossomed. The reserves went into what we call Katie Holmes mode - powerfully pulling away and never looking back.

Still, it wound up being a 47-point win, so, like a chimpanzee concerned with cleanliness, we're nit-picking when we mention too many threes were taken (only Chandler and Davis didn't attempt any out of the 25 heedlessly hoisted). Kobe and company won't be in a sneaker-signing mood on the off-chance Nigeria sneaks up on them tonight. Agreeing to autograph an adversary's adidas is friendly, but now that these games count, they can't be treated as friendlies anymore.

*heck, it wasn't until we we left the public education system that we learned there are continents besides North America and Europe (don't ask us to name them, though).

Jacque Strapped

We can only hope that you didn't strike a poorly-padded wall in frustration, a la Kyrie Irving, while we were away. Speaking of dubious decisions, first-time head coach Jacque Vaughn has something in common with the new Community showrunners - he's inheriting a massive mess made by management coupled with a disgruntled diva (although Dwight Howard's back should be healthier than Chevy Chase's) and a terrible, trifling TV schedule.

Vaughn, who spent two seasons as an assistant in San Antonio, addressed his inexperience: "Would my resume look a little nicer if it said 14 years of experience? Maybe so." Any amount of years between one and his hypothetical number would be better. For the record, 14 is twice as many seasons as his predecessor had under his belt (Stan Van Gundy also had a lot more stomach under his belt). Vaughn's greener than our currency. Vaughn also admitted he has "no relationship" with the huffy Howard.

A hypnotist might've been the ideal hire because preternatural powers of persuasion might be necessary to keep Howard in Orlando, since he's set on swapping Disney's Dumbo for Brooklyn's DUMBO. Good luck taming the elephant in the room before the circus turns chaotic.