Does the Hornets brand still have sting?

By J.P. Pelosi 

Muggsy Bogues in flight

The Hornets were Charlotte's first pro basketball team and for almost 14 years were a lively and popular part of the NBA.

Locally, the fans packed into the Charlotte Coliseum like bees into a hive, which is no mean feat given the size of the place (around 24,000 capacity). As we're reading everywhere around the web now, Hornet diehards contributed to a sellout streak for home games over many years.

Globally, too, the Hornets had appeal. They wore teal with pinstripes, had engaging stars like Muggsy Bogues and Larry Johnson, and perhaps most importantly, were branded with a cartoon hornet. That emblem has had surprising legs, both figuratively and metaphorically.

Who doesn't love a smiling insect?

In Sydney in the nineties, about as far away from Charlotte as you might imagine, Hornets fans had an incessant buzz as well. Purple caps and teal shorts brightened playground courts across the city. Fanatics zipped up audaciously shiny Hornets Starter jackets. Players wore LJ's Converse sneakers to pick-up games. And more than a few tried not Michael Jordan moves, but Kendall Gill moves. Yes, the Lakers and Bulls were certainly better, but the Hornets held court in the trend stakes - before trending was actually a thing.

Kelly Tripucka

But it wasn't just their style that was remarkable. It was the way the young Hornets gelled. They were a diverse group, with a zippy point in Bogues, a powerful yet nimble forward in Johnson, a versatile center in Alonzo Mourning and a silky scorer in Gill. And that was just the half of it. They also had long bombers like Dell Curry and Rex Chapman, and a scoring forward Kelly Tripucka, whose rate of production was superb at times. It all meshed, anyway. The Hornets were a feisty and fast-breaking affair that interrupted our obsession with Eastern Conferences stalwarts like the Celtics and Pistons. They were disruptors before that was a thing.

When the team relocated to New Orleans in 2002, the colours and logo traveled down south too, but seemingly, the club's loveable aura did not. The Louisiana version never really connected, at least not in the general branding sense, and so the decision to refresh the New Orleans club by completely altering its persona took place last year. Hornets morphed into Pelicans and before you rethink that phrase again, know that stranger voodoo has happened in the deep south.

The change left the door open for the second iteration of Charlotte, Jordan's lowly Bobcats, to reclaim its Hornet moniker, and just maybe a sense of pride. The Bobcats have estimated it would cost them about $3 million to rebrand because so much signage and other logo material would have to be replaced. Should this be a concern? 

The Charlotte Observer reported that sources say both Jordan and NBA commissioner David Stern advocated a switch to the Hornets to better market Charlotte’s team. So apparently the extra marketing is a non issue.

However, more work is needed in Charlotte. The Bobcats are not only a bad team but have a floundering brand. Losing will do that to you. They've only been to the post-season once since their inception in 2004 and finished the 2011-12 season with a 7-59 record. That effort was good enough for the worst winning percentage in NBA history (.106).

Jordan, a North Carolina native, knows the value of the Hornets brand and how fans still associate with the original rendition of it. After all, he was a major sporting brand before it was a thing. So he's surely willing to try anything to rejuvenate his club, short of squeezing into the Hugo the Hornet suit. 

Hornets legend Muggsy Bogues recently shared with Half Court Press how special the original Charlotte team was.

"It was an amazing match made in heaven when I arrived in Charlotte," he told HCP. "It was a franchise that was looking for young talent, so to be apart of the upstart along with Dell Curry, Rex Chapman, veterans like Earl Cureton, Kurt Rambis and Kelly Tripucka, was a special time. Charlotte was everything I envisioned as a pro. The fans made it special, in addition to incoming young players like Larry Johnson and Alonzo Mourning."

LJ helped create Charlotte's buzz

Muggsy is right because finding players who compliment one another is a matter of luck and magic. We know this by noting the holes in Charlotte's current roster. There was something unique and timely about the original group that the new version can't simply conjure. Maybe it was the era. Perhaps it was the exuberance of the squad, led by Bogues' positive leadership and buoyed by Johnson's charisma. Perhaps it was both.

So the colours will help fans recall a wonderful brand, as will the logo, but ultimately the parts of the team must fit together. That will require personnel adjustments and better drafting. Amid such challenges, shaking up the brand is just one thing.

Bulls all wrapped up by Nets

Barclays Center, Brooklyn

When a playoff basketball game spins out of control it’s hard to re-set it. This is what happened in the first game of the Brooklyn Nets - Chicago Bulls round one match-up, when Chicago quickly found itself scrambling, with their arms flailing, desperate to regather composure.

They never got their bearings.

These situations are not always basketball related, but have as much to do with atmosphere and emotion. This first playoff game in Brooklyn was raucous, the crowd was inordinately excited, and as Deron Williams told sideline reporter Sam Ponder, the Nets were “locked-in”. The cumulative effect of these things is that concentrating on basketball becomes challenging for the visiting opponent. (You can imagine the added fluster Beyonce causes an offense when she's seated courtside).

Everybody knows the drama of playing on the road. But any advantage a home team has can be upended by slowing the game, and reversing momentum. Michael Jordan's Bulls were masters of this. Of course, not every team has the personnel or the mindset to redirect the flow of a contest, and those squads usually find themselves at the end of a 4-0 series drubbing. 

The Bulls have some spirited players with postseason experience, but against the Nets in game one, they did themselves no favors. They forced early shots, many of them without purpose, and needlessly from the perimeter. They were low percentage heaves, but regardless, were never going to sway the game’s momentum had they fallen. This is an issue for Chicago, who without star Derrick Rose, seem unable to make the statements needed to quieten an opposing crowd. This also means they lose focus where it matters - on defense.

Nonetheless, I like this Bulls team. They’re scrappy and tough-minded, if lacking headline talent. Their first basket in the second half showed the sort of fight I’m talking about - an angry one-handed dunk on the right side by Joakim Noah, a man playing on essentially one foot due to injury. Should they go down in this series, it won't be without a few meaningful tussles.

But, as is the case when you’re on the road, it takes consecutive strikes to counter the home team’s soaring energy, mostly because nobody in the building is happy for you, or at the very least, impressed. Even ESPN's announcers seemed more animated whenever Brooklyn scored. And that’s just playoff basketball on the road - infectiously against you. 

Knicks vs Celtics is timeless

With the NBA playoffs upon us, I started trawling through some old basketball photos on the internet, looking for shots of timeless rivalries. Like that between the New York Knicks and Boston Celtics, of which there are copious pictures, mostly because each club has always had star players.

Sports Illustrated's Neil Leifer has captured so many sporting moments, and yet, it's usually the smaller, incidental exchanges that stand out. 

Leifer told The Huffington Post recently that had his shots been of normal men, not Muhammad Ali or Joe Namath, for example, then we might not dote on them so much now. That's debatable.

The color, more vibrant in scenes of mud and sweat, also made the photos more appealing.

He told Huffpo:

"Now, in the '60s we had a little bit of an edge at SI because we were beginning to do things in color and newspapers in America were 100% black and white. OK, so there was a small advantage and, of course, most people didn't have color televisions. In fact, most sports weren't televised in color. By the time you got into the '70s and the '80s that had changed."

The color was certainly distinct in his photos from the Kentucky Derby and the Super Bowl, but I'll always like the simplicity of his black and white basketball shots. This one from 1960, featuring the Knicks and Celtics, offers an especially unique vantage point of this fascinating rivalry.

Kicks vs Celtics, 1960, Neil Leifer.

Scouting Shumpert The Sophomore

New York Knicks guard Iman Shumpert looks like he's been transported from the eighties back to the future, the result of another Doc Brown mission sent into a spin.

A flash of lightning, a series of cracks and a burst through the space time continuum at 88 miles per hour, and we had Shumpert---part Byron Scott, part Michael Cooper. Most of Marty and Doc's work was done in California, after all.

Shumpert found his way to New York, a blur of high-top sneakers, high-top hair, and flailing limbs. All three elements work for him in today's NBA, which lately has enjoyed a return to flashy running basketball. But the Knicks sophomore isn't yet running as he did his rookie year, not after a major knee injury last year. He still sprints into gaps, jab steps and works defenders into a permanent state of back-peddling. It's effective, if at odds with in a perimeter-centric Carmelo Anthony. 

Shumpert's length also allows him to defend in the post, which he did so well a year ago. He'll shadow his man until the shot launches, and then drift slightly, before swooping to the rim for the board. His arms, at least, are still moving at speed. Though the swooping is more pelican than hawk right now. Shumpert might become a great rebounder as his timing improves. 

Hey, for a guy with more rehabbing than practice of late, Shumpert can still unsettle opponents. He has presence. And that name: Shump-ert. There's something quirky and memorable about it---like he's one of Theo Huxtable's pals.

Okay sure, the points are down, and the explosiveness has been muffled. But Shumpert still has his dribble drive, which includes a delicate hesitation, and vision to spot teammates. His passes often end in lively Knicks hands. That's when he's really dangerous---threatening the interior.

But I mostly enjoy the way he spreads like a spider, his legs splayed, the feet shifting, fast and frenetic. He'll chase his man if beaten, and throw his hands over shoulders, desperate to win back possession. Sometimes its overzealous, other times its an endearing display of hustle. That hasn't changed. 

Shumpert steps up to players ready to pounce, and while he's diligent, the eagerness sometimes hurts his balance. That might be more apparent post-surgery. He'll eventually develop a sense of when to press and coach Mike Woodson will take the ardor for now anyway.  

Where Shumpert excels most is in the in between moments, when balls are loose, rotations are cut short, and finger tips prod skip passes into a sequence of pinging and ponging. He continues to be a disruptor on defense, and that surely nullifies any loss in statistical production for New York. Shumpert's energy is the type of commodity that rises in value come playoff time. Right now, I'm buying in.

Joe Johnson and the heights of Brooklyn

The weight of buzzer-beating baskets in the NBA was never more apparent than during the making of Michael Jordan. Air Jordan hit so many of them, in fact, that he's one of the few players who can legitimately compile a top ten list. 

A fist-thrusting, crowd charging last-second winner by the Brooklyn Nets' Joe Johnson this week, however, has YouTubers on notice.

The legend of Big Shot Joe is growing after two perfectly spun deep balls against the plucky Milwaukee Bucks on Tuesday night, slowly eroding a reputation for isolation and little else. It turns out that Johnson's single-mindedness on offense, long seen as a flaw by pundits, could be just the trick to lift his game on par with his reputation.  

Thinking back to last summer, at an easy-going Nets press conference, general manager Billy King introduced what he called the NBA's "best backcourt". When the first half of the duo Deron Williams was called upon he chimed, "Hello Brooklyn", following King's lead. When Joe Johnson, the second half, greeted the media, he said simply with a wry grin, "Hello, how ya'll doin?"

Johnson is refreshingly down to earth and clearly retains a degree of independence in a league of regimen. The latter, while appreciated in many creative endeavors, has been known to undermine the dynamic of a sports team. The Nets' star is so even-keeled and unimposing, however, it feels a stretch to question his devotion to anything. And yet, his penchant for individuality has come up repeatedly, and not surprisingly it reared again at the media gathering in Brooklyn Borough Hall that day in July. 

Synergy Sports widely reported last year that about 23 percent of  Johnson's possessions are isolation plays. This is surprising based on what we've seen from the Nets two-guard in 2013. Johnson looks interested in passing to open Nets teammates, especially out of the double team. His 3.6 assists per game is good enough to place him among the best shooting guards in the league. So he can pass. More importantly though, fewer people will recall the isolations when they end in game winners.

Presumably Johnson's versatility is why he's been voted to six straight All-Star Games, the most by a Hawk since Dominique Wilkins’ nine consecutive showings. He must have more than one dimension. Well, there's also that he's likable. Johnson is softly spoken, relaxed, and well-dressed off the court. He's thoughtful when questioned, or at least entertains interviewers, furrowing his brow and leaning forward to consider a response. He smiles kindly in lighter moments. Yes, Joe seems like an average fellow, albeit in sharp suits and with a well-trimmed mustache. Fans are apparently drawn to the combination.

If there is a crack beneath the polished veneer, it's his questionable skill away from the ball, meaning that he prefers teammates find him wherever he is, as opposed to cutting, rolling from picks, or generally working for position. For example, a quick scan of Hawks game footage from recent seasons shows Johnson routinely planting himself on the three-point line with an eager hand in the air, waiting for the kick-out pass. He does this in Brooklyn too, but with Deron Williams directing the offense, has found some opportunities closer to the hoop. 

I think Williams motivates Johnson somewhat. Joe's glorious winning shot at the Barclays Center this week was certainly earned because he envisioned the chance instead of settling. Eighty-nine million dollar contract or not, Johnson looks more agile and willing to run around these days.

Overall, I think of Johnson as dependable, if not dominating. He's wily, but not a whirlwind. If Wilkins was The Human Highlight Film, Johnson is The Quality YouTube Clip. Outwardly, he seems a productive and instinctive basketballer, with the ability to make moves inside, and a distinct comfort manning the perimeter. His internet-famous crossovers---one of which fooled Boston's Paul Pierce, and the other Miami's Chris Bosh---are a testament to his one-on-one skill. But they perhaps received more fanfare than deserved, especially the Bosh play, which amounted to a reasonable dribbler deceiving a much taller player with less dexterity. In the currency of NBA hype, that's worth another million in salary.

But I do like the way Johnson plays the perimeter. He's patient, probes for a shot, considers sending the ball into the low post, and usually pulls the trigger only if he has the space to do so. I'm not sure this is something to criticize, though it is easier to do so given he's no athletic wunderkind like Russell Westbrook. While he might seek isolations, he is no more selfish with the ball than the likes of Westbrook, or the majority of twos in the league for that matter. Perhaps the premium for his services is for his patience. 

Johnson's salary has upset more fans than David Stern's Wizard of Oz Complex, so I don't wish to dwell on his inordinate income. But in pro basketball's pecking order, the NBA and its followers would have the guard in the top 25 players right now, based on perceived value. In reality, Johnson might not be an All-Star (he wasn't this season), but just a very good role player. He might be the ultimate pick-up player, in fact, being both handy with the ball and in allowing the game come to him. But a genuine All-Star....

Johnson shoots an elegant jump shot, to be sure. It has a delicate rotation and arc, and is soft when it lands in the net. The trouble is, if his jumper doesn't fall---as it has to wild ovations lately---he's a passenger, forcing plays, needlessly dribbling and tossing the ball two-and-a-half feet over his teammates' heads. That will happen to the sort of player who's too slow-footed to really challenge a defense---where else does he go? This is why he parks himself outside. But hey, hitting from outside has its virtues as we've seen.

Winning over New Yorkers is nothing new of course. A lesser known guard named Robert “Bubbles” Hawkins, similarly aroused the interest of Nets fans in the mid-Seventies. Hawkins was a 6’4 shooter who in just over 100 games in the league, showed he could score (averaging 19 points per game in the 1976-77 season), and offered a handful of everything else (averaging about 2 assists and 3 rebounds the same year). Sound familiar?

While Hawkins was perhaps not as smooth as Johnson, he was equally productive. A 1977 Sports Illustrated article about the then struggling Nets, talked about Hawkins as being the club’s only star. The story called Hawkins a scoring machine, capable of almost a point per minute. One hot streak saw him deliver 152 points in 163 minutes of play, the story noted, which sounds a great deal like Johnson.

Admittedly, Hawkins was a more freewheeling and fast-breaking type of player than Johnson is, attacking the rim with a series of jerks and dribble moves. Johnson is more methodical, a slower dribble, and clearly favors mid-range to long jump shots. But like Johnson, Hawkins was reportedly a quiet man off the court.

Bubbles' energetic play enlivened the Nets, who had only a year prior lost Julius Erving to the Philadelphia 76ers. Nets coach Kevin Loughery said of Hawkins in ‘77, "He's got something...who knows what you should call it...charisma, I guess."

Johnson is more measured than charismatic, but is surely burdened by the same pressure as Hawkins to boost a secondary New York team amid blue-and-orange-toting Knicks fans. That’s a tall order, no matter the extent of your charm, or the fineness of your facial hair. The buzzer-beaters are helping.

I hope Johnson succeeds in Brooklyn for some time, if for no other reason than his shot selection is more palatable than Carmelo Anthony's.

At the press conference last year, he was asked if he expected to move away from his “Iso Joe” reputation acquired in Atlanta. He answered unashamedly, that he’d continue to play his game, creating for both himself and others. And to any fair-minded observer, he's done so thus far, even under the white hot spotlight.