Friday, 5 August 2016



With Russell Westbrook's commitment, Thunder can finally move forward


OKLAHOMA CITY -- The sky blue carpet was laid out, with fans equipped with handmade signs and smart phones lining decaled barricades, waiting for a car to arrive and drop off Russell Westbrook.
Local businesses downtown let employees off work early, encouraging them to head to Chesapeake Energy Arena. Drummers pounded on their snares and cymbals, scattered chants of "Rus-sell!" broke out organically, team employees bounced around handing out bottles of water and snow cones. More than a thousand people were gathered, sweating in unison on a steamy August day -- one in which the mayor of Oklahoma City, Mick Cornett, had declared to be Russell Westbrook Day.
One month ago to the day, Kevin Durant had signed with the Golden State Warriors, bringing the Oklahoma City Thunder franchise to its knees. "A truck just ran through us," is how one person within the team phrased it.
Now, a celebration was happening. Westbrook had signed an extension, stabilizing the organization and allowing it to finally begin to move forward. Durant's departure was the darkest day in franchise history; Westbrook's commitment might be the brightest.
The suddenness of Westbrook's renegotiated deal happening was jarring, going from dead silence for the last month to news breaking late on Wednesday it was close, and then done. But in reality, Westbrook and the Thunder have been in agreement on an extension for more than two weeks. The signal was Dion Waiters' qualifying offer being rescinded, a move done with only the goal of freeing necessary cap space to extend Westbrook. The moment the Thunder pulled that offer, they knew they had a commitment from Westbrook.
In the wake of Durant's departure, the Thunder focused on patience and level-headed choices. They quickly turned to Westbrook to try and steady the franchise and to do it with something tangible. A contract extension that in essence, plants a flag in the ground with the Thunder. A declaration that in forgoing his own free agency a year from now, Westbrook was going to pick up the mantle Durant willingly laid down.
Yes, Westbrook now maximizes his earning potential. His contract is a renegotiation and it only goes up, adding on an extra $8.7 million this season. Then it's another guaranteed year with the Thunder, and then Westbrook hits the coveted 10-year veteran max qualifier, and could ink a five-year, $204 million contract, making him the highest-paid player in the NBA.
But first, he had to commit to the Thunder now.
There's no denying Westbrook made the most pragmatic, sensible decision. He's making the most money he possibly can and keeping options open for the future. He's also making the most brash and bold one. He's assuming the burden of filling the crater Durant left behind. It's a perfect Westbrookian paradox, fitting for the kind of player he is. None of it makes any sense, except it all makes perfect sense.
Westbrook can re-enter the free agent market in two years, and many look at this situation as him giving the Thunder a timetable. A deadline of two years to convince him to stay again. But to judge the length of the contract and assume he's plotting for future free agency would be, like many do with Westbrook already, misreading the situation. Westbrook has made a clear commitment to the Thunder. He's under contract longer with them than Durant is with the Warriors.
The Thunder are under no illusion this is a lifetime contract, though. There's work to be done. The roster has holes, and Westbrook wants to win. But he also isn't in desperate search for approval because of it. Westbrook doesn't tend to care much about what people think. That should be pretty obvious with the way he dresses himself.
It's one of the reasons Westbrook is perpetually misunderstood. Many conflate his on-court persona with his off-court personality. He's unapologetic. He's fiery. He's emotional. He's arguably the most competitive player in professional sports. And he's really not as complicated as it might seem. With Westbrook, what you see is what you get. He's not one to mince words with the media -- no matter how short those words might be -- and it won't take a decoder to figure him out.
"I'm a straightforward type of guy. I shoot you straight," he said. "No need to go back and forth and try to figure out any other options, create this hoopla, rumors and all this stuff. This is where I want to be, and that's what I made the decision based on."
Almost instantly after Durant left, Westbrook understood the gravity of the situation he was cast into. It was time for him to make a decision now, a year earlier than expected, and give the Thunder a course to plot. As one person close to Westbrook said: He operates in the light of day. There would be no backroom angling. He was going to give the Thunder an answer, one way or the other.
"All the times we've been together," OKC general manager Sam Presti said, "I don't think I've ever walked out a conversation with him thinking, I don't know where he stands, I don't know what he thinks, I don't know what he means. It was right down the middle. Direct."
But following Durant's announcement, as he said Thursday, Westbrook quickly shifted into thinking ahead for the Thunder. He asked Presti, "What's next?"
"I said, 'Here is one thing that could be next,' " Presti said. "I'd really like it to happen, by the way."
The Thunder made it their primary objective to lock up Westbrook. They maneuvered to be in the position to do it, and once they formally presented the option, it didn't take long for him to commit.
It might have seemed as if it was a toss-up, that the Russell Westbrook many perceive wouldn't stay in little ol' Oklahoma City. He's got his fashion interests. He's from Los Angeles. He's got to crave the big city spotlight. Durant always appeared to be the perfect fit with Oklahoma City, with his humble nature and down-home demeanor. But he also was drawn to a bigger city, not necessarily for the brighter lights, but for the ability to blend. In Oklahoma City, Durant carried a larger-than-life burden everywhere he went. He'd privately lamented to friends an inability to be in public. Westbrook's ideal night off the floor, though? At home with his wife Nina, watching anything other than basketball. That's a fit with Oklahoma City.


While Durant often had issues with the roster -- not enough veterans, not the right mix, not enough spending -- Westbrook has always been a believer in Presti. Westbrook's mentality has consistently been this: Give me the 14 guys you want me to play with, and we'll go after it. And as the Thunder now reconfigure around him, Presti has the responsibility of sorting through the best way to complement a Westbrook-led roster.
Westbrook's world is forever different now. He was once a part of a core, with Durant and James Harden and Serge Ibaka. Then he was the Han Solo to Durant's Luke Skywalker. Now, he's flagbearer, assuming the full weight of a franchise on his back. He now takes on the responsibility of being the franchise player, alone. He didn't ask for it. But he has embraced it.
Westbrook has always has been an overcomer. He didn't care he was barely recruited out of high school. He didn't flinch at critics saying he's not a point guard. He's not one to shy away from a challenge. He runs into them headfirst, full steam ahead, sometimes for better or worse. Picking up the pieces after Durant's exit is as much a challenge as there is.
Exactly the kind of thing Russell Westbrook lives for.



Thursday, 28 July 2016


North Korea: U.S. "crossed the red line," effectively declared war

 



Tuesday, 26 July 2016

'Nerve': Film Review


Web platforms and smartphone apps are evolving so quickly that a game like Nerve seems like it might be available for download already. Combining live video-streaming functions and social media features, the fictional mobile application aggregates online communities of “watchers” who interact with “players” competing for cash by completing challenges that are originated by participants over a 24-hour period.
Described as “a game like Truth or Dare, minus the truth,” Nerve appears to have the potential to thrive on both the anonymity of online trolling and the widespread quest for instant celebrity. Risky and deceptive online behavior probably emerged soon after popular adoption of the internet, although broader recognition followed the release of films like Nerve co-directors Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman’s noted 2010 low-budget documentary Catfish.
With its attractive young cast and a multiplatform media campaign, Nerve won’t need to rely on going viral to find its audience, but it’s unlikely to be trending for long once viewers digest its simplistically cautionary message.
The issue partly is the filmmakers’ muddled social-engineering perspective that almost instantly transforms a teen with fairly average online habits into an impulsive daredevil with the mere adoption of a new app. Shy, responsible Staten Island high school senior Venus “Vee” Delmonico (Emma Roberts) has been comfortable living her life in the shadow of her much more outgoing best friend Sydney (Emily Meade), until Sydney challenges Vee to live a little for a change. Ignoring her university acceptance letter to art school and joining the Nerve community, where “watchers pay to watch and players play to win cash and glory” by accepting and completing dares that are broadcast to Nerve participants on the players’ smartphones, Vee meets Ian (Dave Franco) after targeting him on her first challenge to kiss a stranger in public for five seconds and win $100.
Not coincidentally, Ian also is a player, and the online watchers quickly pair them up to ride his motorcycle into Manhattan, where they complete a series of tasks that brings them escalating payouts into the thousands of dollars and sparks the possibility of romance (while getting Vee an unusual tattoo in the process). Vee begins to question her impulsiveness once it becomes obvious that the app has extracted an alarming amount of information from her digital footprint that may be putting her friends and family at risk in all-too-tangible ways, as well as her own personal safety.
Vee’s overprotective mom Nancy (Juliette Lewis) is chief among her concerns, serving as an extension of screenwriter Jessica Sharzer’s strategy of balancing tension between parental censure and teen boundary-pushing. It won’t be any surprise where the filmmakers come down on the issue of online excess, but with immersive virtual reality and artificial intelligence applications looming as the next major technological advances, all of the hand-wringing over the proliferation of selfie culture, celebrity fixation and unexamined over-sharing only emphasizes the appearance of a widening generational divide between early adopters and their ill-equipped imitators.
Fortunately, Schulman and Joost keep the film visually engaging by combining characteristics of videogame play, social-media interactivity and web-based video sharing with a heightened style that emphasizes DP Michael Simmonds’ neon-leaning nighttime lighting. All that busyness onscreen distracts somewhat from the impression that Roberts and Franco don't look much like teenagers, although they form a fairly good team as long as they’re pursuing specific challenges rather than sharing their nascent emotions for one another or attempting to unravel the intricacies of the game.
Distributor: Lionsgate
Production companies: Allison Shearmur Productions, Keep Your Head Productions, Lionsgate
Cast: Emma Roberts, Dave Franco, Emily Meade, Miles Heizer, Colson Baker, Juliette Lewis, Kimiko Glenn, Marc John Jefferies, Brian Marc, Samira Wiley
Directors: Henry Joost, Ariel Schulman
Screenwriter: Jessica Sharzer
Producers: Allison Shearmur, Anthony Katagas
Executive producers: Jeanne Ryan, Qiuyun Long
Director of photography: Michael Simmonds
Production designer: Chris Trujillo
Costume designer: Melissa Vargas
Editors: Jeff McEvoy, Madeleine Gavin
Music: Rob Simonsen
Casting directors: John Papsidera, Ann Goulder