Miami Sound Machine

Vince Carter used to be my favorite basketball player. After the Toronto Raptors drafted him and it looked as though he was becoming a very special player, I felt blessed that such a promising young star was actually playing for my hometown team. His sophomore year he hit a number of game-winning shots, scored 50+ points the first time the Raptors played on The NBA on NBC, and during All Star Weekend showed the world what an amazing dunker he is. He was slowly becoming a household name and had the city of Toronto eating out of the palm of his hand, and I was right there, lapping it all up.

When sports writers and commentators started criticizing him for his lazy defensive work or his tendency to settle for outside shots instead of attacking the basket, I ignored them, believing that he'd come around in time and tailor his game fittingly. Sky was the limit for Vincent Lamar Carter. This guy was bound for glory.

As we all know, that didn't happen. Shockingly, Vince's skills began to regress, and over the following years he would be hampered by injuries, some possibly real, most made up. I didn't know this at the time, however, and watching him average 15 or so points per game was almost too tough for me to bear. I couldn't understand it.

When it became clear that Vince wanted out of his contract with the Raptors, a lot of fans turned on him. I didn't. Maybe if he were playing better basketball I would have, but at the time I didn't much care. Jesus, the dude was washed up before 28; if anything, I pitied him.

Then the trade happened. And then he, amazingly, started playing like the VC of old. And then he admitted in an interview that he had stopped playing hard his last few seasons with the Raptors.

And then I realized what a motherfucker the guy is.

Okay, you're upset with the organization. You feel the team isn't going anywhere, and this fact makes you, as a competitor, feel trapped. Okay, I get it. No problem stating the fact, letting people know. But -- to quote Nicky Santoro, maybe it's just me; maybe I'm a little fucked up -- I believe that if you're paid millions of dollars to do a job (play basketball, even!), you damn well better give it your all, especially when fans could start a mortgage for the price of what a ticket to a ball game costs these days.

So Vince is back to being a pretty good player, but he's still the same old Wince: he's never improved his game; If you hit him hard he stops attacking the basket and settles for 3-pointers; and he's still as stupid as all get out. Remember four years ago when he flew to his graduation ceremony the day of game 7 against the 76ers in the Eastern Conference semi-finals? Not the brightest of ideas, right? Know what the guy was doing while the Heat were handing the Nets their collective asses during game 2 of this series? Laughing at dancing old ladies and whooping it up with teammates.

Doesn't exactly sound like a fierce competitor. But we already knew that.

Dwyane Wade is the antithesis of Vince Carter: he attacks the basket like he has a personal vendetta against it, and rarely settles for outside jumpers; he plays for his team rather than boosting personal stats; and he's tougher than a bag of nails.

If there is to be one commonality between the two (besides the tights, though Wade's mercifully stop just below the knee), it's that their ball handling skills -- stop laughing -- are eerily similar. I believe the major reason Vince is often hesitant to head for the rim -- quit it -- is because he's a pussy, but another big factor is that he's not a good dribbler. Neither is Wade, and his high turnovers are a testament to the fact -- but at least he continues to drive, never getting frustrated or discouraged.

Agressive Mistakes, as TMH so aptly wrote.

The dichotomy between Wade and Carter was on full display today in game 3 of the Heat/Nets series. Vince had a great game, his team lost. Wade played solid, involved his teammates, and the Heat won. Wade took a hard shot to the mouth that left him floored and had to be taken back to the locker room, but he returned yet again, only strengthening his rep as, pound for pound, possibly the toughest player in the league today.

Fall down 7 times, get up 8.

As for the rest of the game, the Heat won because they played like the team Pat Riley invisioned when he brought them together. That's two games in a row. If they can sustain the momentum, this Heat team will be a force to be reckoned with. Save for the Pistons and the Spurs, no other team has the offensive and defensive manpower the Heat possess. They just need to channel that force and be consistent with it. Detroit and San Antonio are able to do this because the nucleus of both teams has been together for years. Miami's hasn't, and they unfortunately don't have the luxury of waiting. They need to gel now, or their window on winning a championship will close.

If you're a Miami Heat fan, these next few weeks should be very interesting. I've been a doomsayer all season, but recently I've been struck with this odd feeling: genuine hope.

Let's Go Heat.