[Chron.com] Beast of burden: Jazz 98, Rockets 85

April 28, 2007
Beast of burden: Jazz 98, Rockets 85

SALT LAKE CITY -- Sing it, Mick:

I'll never be your beast of burden.
My back is broad but its a hurting.

Tracy McGrady was going to carry the team.

Right now, he couldn't carry a tune.

T-Mac was going to finally get the 400-pound gorilla off his back.

Right now, he'd get pinned to the floor and licked to death by a month-old puppy.

Tracy McGrady was going to pick the entire franchise up in his arms and deliver it deep into the post-season.

Right now, you wouldn't want to send him to store for a dozen eggs.

T-Mac was going to hoist the Rockets onto his fragile back and make like a rough, tough longshoreman who totes that barge.

Right now, you wonder if he had enough backbone to pick himself up and walk out of the arena.

Am I hard enough.
Am I rough enough.
Am I rich enough.
I'm not too blind to see.

Oh, there is so much to say about this 98-85 -- and it wasn't that close -- utter collapse by the Rockets.

There was Yao Ming letting the Jazz' physical style get inside his head and playing timidly. There was the matador defense of Rafer Alston that provided Deron Williams with everything except valet parking on his cruising down the lane. There was another bench effort that was so confused and ineffectual that it might have been planned by Donald Rumsfeld. There was Luther Head wandering around in the dark playoff forest like Hansel and Gretel unable to find the pieces of bread they had dropped. There was Jeff Van Gundy's game-planning and the entire roster's inability to carry out an attack.

But in the end, it comes back to Tracy McGrady. Because it always comes back to Tracy McGrady, fairly or unfairly.

This time it's quite fair, because McGrady told us before the series began that it would always be about him.

Then he dallied around the perimeter again in the first half, only occasionally taking the ball to the basket to score or draw free throws.

Then there was the end of the first half, which summed up the Rockets season and, quite possibly, a decade of McGrady's career. Deron Williams started a drive at halfcourt and rammed it right down the paint to score over Yao.

There were still 5 seconds showing on the clock when the ball went through the hoop. But instead of hurrying to get off a last-second shot by Mr. Circus Shot himself, McGrady slowly walked the ball over midcourt, then calmly tossed it to Chuck Hayes. Perhaps only Capt. Hook would be a less-desirable candidate to take the desperate heave than the Chuckster.

But the was play and the decision made by the decision-maker, the leader, the man who was gonna toss his team's hopes over his shoulders like Santa's sack of toys and spread joy throughout Rocketland.

Several Jazz players ran off the floor laughing. Yao stalked off shaking his head angrily. T-Mac continued to seem puzzled by this concept of the other team using double-teaming defenses.

"They're doing a great job of putting the pressure on us," he said. "They've taking us out of our comfort zone on the offensive end."

It's all about comfort, dontcha know. The playoffs are all about being wrapped up in a down comforter and sitting on a fluffy pillow while servants feed you grapes.

You can put me out
On the street.
Put me out
With no shoes on my feet.
But, put me out, put me out
Put me out of misery.

So he shot 6-for-18 on the night and scored two buckets in the second half. Two.

Tracy McGrady said he was going to carry this playoff season. But the ball must suddenly feel like it's made of lead or granite. Or his own reputation.

Maybe after 10 years of doing highlight reels for ESPN during the regular season, he tought it was finally time to channel Michael Jordan and take his reputation to the next level by taking the Rockets to the promised land -- Oh my! The second round of the playoffs -- in order to break through all of the thunderclouds and answer all of the questions that hang over his head.

Whatever the reasons, T-Mac took it upon himself to put the burden upon himself.

I'll never be your beast of burden.
I'll never be your beast of burden.
Never, never, never, never, never, never, never be.

Too heavy?

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Awesome article Fran!

URL link: http://blogs.chron.com/franblinebury/2007/04/beast_of_burden_jazz_98_rocket.html