Monta Ellis Levels Up

I hope to write more someday about how I see following sports as a more socially accepted and passive version of dungeons and dragons. But for now, since this is my first post, I'm simply going to dive in and assume you think the same way as I do. That this is an absurd assumption is not lost on me, but it's also entirely fitting.

Watching the Warriors this year has slipped past frustrating and landed squarely on largely pointless. There is Nelson's meaningless quest for the all time lead in wins, an achievement that will mean very little to any season ticket holders. There is the maturation of Stephen Curry and Anthony Randolph, two players for whom the future is bright and hazy all at once. A sort of blurry version of the sun, perhaps. We expect magnificence because we have seen it before but there are no guarantees. The lone plot line keeping me interested is the development of Monta Ellis.

Were this actually some role playing game (and trust me, that's all sports really are. Groups of diversely skilled people campaigning for a common goal) Monta was supposed be the raid leader. His party, though inexperienced, was a hopeful rouge band of giants (Brandan Wright and Andris Biedrins) and elves (CJ Watson and Anthony Morrow). They would have had class descriptions like warrior (Corey Maggette and Kelenna Azubuike) and druid (Ronny Turiaf). And together they might have found a path to success. But Monta has seen his party decimated by injury before the campaign even began. Of the 12 man opening day roster, only Monta, Maggette, and Curry remain (though now even Monta himself has been felled - quick! Resurrection spell!). Each glimmer of hope that a party member would be returned to life is met with another's falling. Monta is Conan the Barbarian, alone on the throne. A thankless, solitary job his reward for all this hard work.

Perhaps Monta began this year as a paladin or rouge, offering his diverse collection of driving layups, pull up jumpers, and fast break igniting steals, but that's lost now. He is asked to be a priest and a warrior, a hunter and a mage. There is no name for this because it doesn't work. A player, in an RPG or on the court, simply cannot carry all that weight. His role is the acceptance of all roles and no player in the history of the NBA has been able to win that way.

Ideally, each player on a basketball court has skills that are complimentary to their teammates. Even one dimensional players serve to take on so much of one category that it frees up other players to address another. Dikembe Mutombo did this with defense, Iverson with scoring. Ellis has neither one dimensional distractions as teammates, nor fully complimentary pieces. He has himself, and he has to do it all. His starting position may as well be basketball player. He is followed by a clan of computer generated and controlled characters who are as likely to blindly stumble into a wall as they are to perform their duty. And though he has to look to them for support, he knows he won't find it.

Further complicating matters is that Monta is not without his own limitations, even on a well balanced and skilled team. Physically, he is small. He has a tendency to shoot too many threes. And without the ability of his teammates to cover up and check these limitations he is growing in ways that, while beautiful, may be irreversible. He's been accused of shooting too often in the past, but not this year. There's no one else. Can the man who has been asked to carry the burden give it back when it's time? Will he trust his teammates? With each new experience and skill, the better he gets, he may be growing farther away from being the kind of leader this team will eventually need.