Remember when Ben Simmons led the LSU Tigers to NCAA Tournament glory? Me either, but only because it never happened.
At the time, thanks to playing alongside three other guys who — during fits of delusion — thought they were alpha talents, as well as an inept head coach, it was easy to point blame to people not named Ben Simmons.
That was, obviously, good for Big Bad Ben Simmons.
Shoot a jumper you coward!
Yes. Yes. It would be nice for this specific caitiff to shoot from beyond the arc. However, we apparently need him to take baby steps. For every at the rim attempt he takes, which is mind boggling often, Simmons needs to boot-scoot his ass a few feet away from the rim, daring a basketball loving species to watch him attempt an ill-fated shot from 13 feet.
Gasp!
Audible gasp, even!
Moans… not that kind you sicko.
Let’s make something Camp Crystal Lake clear from the jump (but not shot): Ben Simmons is an excellent basketball player. He’s a large human who can do everything well above average… except one thing that happens to be of great importance in the game of shooty hoops.
It’s not only his inability to shoot that’s troublesome, though. It’s that our Australian friend refuses to try.
S/he’s your smart, witty and charming friend, sitting at the bar sipping on tonics until their ass is melted quinine. Your pal sees a potential mate casually glancing over, maybe showing interest. But instead of walking to Tinder in Real Life — like a gentleman or all ladylike — to shoot their shot, s/he is hoping the other person comes to talk to them.
Tinder in Real Life doesn’t, of course. After all, your friend is drinking fucking tonic at a bar, probably checking god damn Roblox stats in the process.
You’re friends with losers, if we’re being honest.
What’s this again? A basketball blog? Let’s digress…
Would your friend be successful if s/he were to actually attempt to talk to Bumble Gone Wild? Who in the hell knows… not me. What I do know, however, is your lame ass friend will forever be lonely until s/he’s confident enough to strike up a conversation with someone.
This is Ben Simmons. He’s sipping on tonic, desperately hoping the jumper comes to talk to him, instead of him attempting to talk to the jumper. In this analogy, the tonic is Simmons’ ATR attempts.
In his career, Simmons has now attempted 24 shots from distance, 11 of those coming in his rookie season. He’s Philly’s guard. Other guards in the NBA are Klay Thompson, Steph Curry, Bradley Beal and dozens of other dudes who don’t mind hurling a jumper here and there.
Defenders of his game will try to semantic Simmons to greatness, arguing we’d view him differently if he were labeled a center… but he’s not playing god damn center. He’s mostly playing point guard while more terrified of Jumpers than Roland Cox.
(Holy shit, we just made a Jumper reference)
Nevertheless, for the sake of placating to the masses, let’s call Simmons’ cowardly ass a center. In today’s NBA, centers are also asked to shoot jumpers and operate, even if in limited capacity, outside the paint.
And. Here. We. Coward.
Last season alone (the not weird one), Simmons’ most attempts (276) are from five feet or closer to the basket. Good thing too, as his next most attempts are from five through nine feet (75 attempts), making less than 39 percent of those shots. Yucky.
But wait… there’s more!
After that, our yellow-belly hero is shrinking as he moves away from the rim. On a measly 17 attempts from 10-14 feet, he’s only making 11.8 percent of those relatively easily shots.
Eleven Point Eight Percent.
These are all weird numbers without much context, so: Even in the paint (where big men rule, right Ben Simmons defenders?), Simmons is shooting a namby-pamby 33 percent in the non-restricted area.
Sigh. Bluh. Sad face emoji. This is all Johnny Jones’ fault somehow, I’m sure of it!
Despite all of that, he’s still good! Due to all that, though, he’s a large reason for everything that’s wrong with the Sixers.
Naturally, others share in the blame, including guys recently fired, but if a team’s second best player simply refuses to shoot from anywhere except literally right on top of the rim, especially in this economy, he needs to be shipped somewhere else so he can go drink some tonic.
Random Reminder: The Pope Once Slapped A Lady
The Pope slapped a lady. She grabbed his holiness like she was at a Backstreet Boys concert and he was Nick Carter, then the man who helps the world navigate stuff god wants us to navigate walloped her.
Video proof:
Listen, I’m a lapsed Catholic. I’m not going to turn this into a thing. This is an old person, who is in an insanely important role, slapping a fan (are they called fans… followers?). When this went down, he was getting run through the hot take gallows by those who believe he did something wrong.
Should a man hit a woman? Hell to the no. That’s the black and white version of this kerfuffle; though it’s a bit more layered than that.
You see, I watched The Two Popes on Netflix, which makes me a pope expert. As a Dr. In Popeness, it’s clear this specific pope felt as if the fan/follower held his hand too long. Knowing that there are thousands, if not millions, of people who would like nothing more than to dunk on the pope, the pope smacked the lady away with a double-tap before she could theoretically do something unholy to his holiness.
The hell if I know. Don’t invade people’s private spaces, I guess. Also, just because someone is famous, even the god damn pope, it doesn’t mean you’re entitled to cling to him like a fucking teddy bear.
Finally, where in the living hell was the pope’s security?
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Joseph used to write a bunch of things for places like Forbes, FRS and others. Now he’s ‘the man’ in management. A big old loser. A washed, leathery face, too. Here’s his own newsletter.