Leandrinho

Because I'm lazy, I'm posting a draft of something I wrote back in January. I've lost some of my poetic touch, and it's apparent in this piece. Still, I think it describes who Leandro Barbosa is and what he does on the court about as well as can be done. Honestly, though, words do not do Leandro justice. Unfortunately, as you all know, I have no access to Suns highlights. Otherwise, you would see a spectacular reel featuring the best of Leandro's blow-by's, threes, cross-overs, and back doors...all done to the Road Runner theme which can be found here.

So here is my homage to our newest Sixth Man of the Year, Leandro Barbosa.



Imagine that you're an NBA starting guard. You're a veteran - you've seen it all. You're a rookie - you've got a lot to learn. Think about the confidence you feel every time you step onto the painted hardwood. You're a star, you're not a star, it doesn't matter. You're in the league, and you're starting an NBA game.

Your focus stifles the thunderous noise of the arena to a distant murmur in the back of your mind as the ball floats straight up, waiting for your center to tap it to you. He gets it, the other guy gets it, it doesn't matter. This is the league, and it always comes back to you. You know that much.

Imagine your heart racing every time your opponent touches the ball. You don't want him to shoot, he's too good. You've got something to prove - to the fans, to yourself, it doesn't matter. You hang on his jersey and force him to pass - job well done.

You feel good. The win is a long way off still, and you're just now settling into your groove. The game ebbs and flows, and the tide turns as the lead changes. Back and forth, the ball moves like lightning through the clouds. You can't stop it, but your cover has yet to score. Clang! Missed three. You're on your game. You stay in front of him, you deny him the lane. He is having a very bad night, but he won't give up. That's fine. Neither will you. This is your league, and no one gets by you.

Imagine that your team is up by six just over halfway through the first quarter. You've kept the shooter in check, and the game is under control. It's taken on a rhythm that almost seems to live and breathe, and it's working in your favor. You look up at his coach, and he wants some new blood - the starter, the sixth man, it doesn't matter. This is the league, and you're better than the bench. That's why you're a starter. That's why you're a star.

The whistle blows, and you take a forty five second breather. Your coach is happy, but the job has just begun. You're not tired. You're a professional athlete, and you train every day for this. You're still good to go. The horn sounds, the time out is over.

You go back on defense, feeling like you can stop anybody in the league. You've manhandled their designated shooter, and he's sitting on the bench wondering about the defensive hurricane that swarmed all over him. But he's no longer your concern. You look up to see the ball in the hands of a small, lanky, baby-faced foreigner. Step back, let him shoot, it doesn't matter. Lets see what he's got. Swish, three.

Thirty seconds later, and your man has the ball. His shot looks funny, but you won't give him another chance to burn you. You know he can make it, so you bend your knees and put your hand up. "Not this time," you say with a knowing smile. Six points, three points, it doesn't matter. This is the league, and you have the lead.

Now imagine your focus vanishing. The lights flash in your eyes, and the crowd is roaring in your ear. What just happened? You were in a zone, now your feet are nailed to the floor. You're confused. Where did he go?

You turn your head over your right shoulder just in time to see him gliding to the rim. The ball melts out of his hand and drifts high off the glass. The nylon netting doesn't even whimper as it falls through. And one - you didn't even feel your hand slap his shoulder, it happened so fast. He was by you and in the air before the nerve impulse traveled from your hand to your brain. Now you know why they call him the Brazilian Blur. This is his league, and your lead is now gone.


Congratulations, Leandro. A more deserving talent and a more special human being has never graced the Suns organization.