When Shelden Williams' jersey was retired over the weekend, he said he wasn't a man of big words.
We knew that. The Landlord was a man of big heart, big plays and a big legacy at Duke, but he was never a man of big words. (Though, to be fair, I don't think freshman Shelden could have made the speech that Duke grad Shelden made. He did a lot of growing in four years.)
Anyway, to paraphrase Denny Green, Shelden was who we THOUGHT he was.
But J.J. Redick-that's a different story. Duke's all-time leading scorer was occasionally a man of big words. If he doesn't do better than his classmate, then he just might get the Cameron Indoor Silent Treatment (Copyright 2007, Joseph Alleva). So, being a man of big words myself, I've decided to help him out.
(To answer the question you're all asking: Yes, I do have something to say about this year's Duke team. But the chance to write yet another J.J. Redick column doesn't come along every day. To appease you all, I'll say a few things, but I'm putting them in parentheses, to emphasize the fact that they are much less important than J.J. Redick.)
(Thing One: The much-maligned ACC is statistically speaking, the best conference in America. If you don't believe me, check out the conference RPI. Thing Two: Don't look now, but the much-maligned Blue Devils have now won five games in a row in the toughest conference in America. Thing Three: Duke just might be-gasp!-underrated. Thing Four: The fact that Dave McClure doesn't have more than just a hyper-extended knee is really good news. Thing Five: Watching Coach K squat on the court and reassure McClure was one of the most touching things I've ever seen in an athletic arena.)
But before I help J.J. with his speech, I just wanted to set the scene and describe what the J.J. Redick Jersey Retirement Ceremony would be like if I ran the world.
First of all, he wouldn't just walk out like Williams did on Sunday. He would be carried out, on a 24-karat gold throne, with six models leading the way and dropping rose pedals. Second, he wouldn't just have a cloth jersey hanging in the rafters, it would be made of platinum, or gold, or diamond or something. Lastly, he wouldn't just walk out and make a speech at halftime. Instead, there would be a laser show, and maybe some fireworks, and definitely a stunt where the Blue Devil mascot on a motorcycle jumps over at least six monster trucks and a 1976 El Camino.
So anyway, if I were J.J. Redick, here is what I would say Sunday:
"It's great to be back. Really good to see you all again, especially you, Crazy Towel Guy. I always liked you, even though I don't really know why. By the way, how funny is President Brodhead's voice? That kills me every time.
"Anyway, I see you've made some changes around here. Krzyzew's Chefs-man, I thought that was a joke the first time I heard about it. Just because the middle of Coach K's name sounds like "chef" doesn't mean you should dress up like chefs. That's just silly. But the McRobber-that's clever. I'm all for any costume that makes the kid wearing it look like the McDonald's Hamburgler.
"Boy, it sure is great to be back on this floor. Actually, it's good to be on any floor-I think we all know how much time I've spent on the hardwood this season."
[Pause for appreciative laughter.]
"Anyway, I may be sitting on the bench in the NBA, but at least I'm doing better than my boy Adam Morrison. If his .376 shooting percentage was a batting average, he'd be in the Hall of Fame. Too bad it's not. I'm looking better than he is, too. I can't believe David Stern's dress code allows crusty, white-boy mustaches.
"Anyway, thank y'all. It's been great. Enjoy the post-game Bojangles buffet."
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