aj1987
04-10-2015, 07:24 PM
When people talk about Clippers forward Matt Barnes, one word often comes to mind. That word is a--hole.
“When he was with the Lakers, I hated him,” says Clippers center DeAndre Jordan. “And I mean hated him.”
Barnes fouls hard. He talks trash. He’ll tackle your star player, fight your center and threaten your owner (these are not hypotheticals; Barnes has done all three during the last two years). He never stops, stalking the court and scowling and cursing so loud that his neck veins distort the topography of his neck tattoo.
All of which causes plenty of NBA players, and fans, to expect the worst when Barnes joins their team, an occurrence which, it should be noted, is all but inevitable. In 12 seasons, the 35-year-old has taken the court alongside everyone from Kobe Bryant to Dwight Howard to Allen Iverson while playing for eight teams. It’s only a matter of time until he joins yours.
But once he does, something strange happens. People don’t just tolerate Barnes, or like him. They love him. “Once he joined us, I was like, ‘Oh yeah, this is going to be great,’” says Jordan. “He’s all about team. All about family.” Clippers point guard Chris Paul says he used to “really hate” Barnes as well, but he now calls him, “an unbelievable teammate”, mentioning “how hard he plays” and his “selflessness.” J.J. Redick played one season in Orlando with Barnes in 2010 and for years after, whenever asked, cited Barnes as his favorite teammate ever. “And I bet,” says Redick, who’s now reunited with Barnes in Los Angeles, “if you ask a bunch of guys that have played with him you’d get the same response.”
*****
When I meet Barnes, on a recent Thursday, one of the first things he says is, “There’s no bulls--- to me.”
He’s seated on a white couch in his waterfront condo in Marina del Rey, Ca. A liquor cabinet in the corner is stocked with Crown Royal and Captain Morgan. To his right, about seven feet up the wall, hangs a regulation basketball hoop, installed for the benefit of his twin six-year-old boys, Isaiah and Carter. Across from the couch, a large flat-screen TV is tuned to the NCAA tournament, where Barnes’ alma mater, UCLA, is playing in the first round. It’s been 13 years since Barnes was in Westwood, where he played with future NBAers Earl Watson, Baron Davis, Jerome Moiso. Dan Gadzuric and Jason Kapono. Today, Barnes is the last one left in the league. He has no illusions about why. “I’m a role player, a journeyman,” he says, “I know who I am.”
There are, Barnes explains, two NBAs. There’s the one you see on TV, populated by LeBron and KD and Chris and Cliff Paul, a world where every paycheck bubbles with zeros, millions of Chinese teenagers rock your jersey and, if you don’t like a coach, you can just get him fired.
And then there’s the NBA where Barnes resides, a, Darwinian landscape where the average playing career is 4.8 years, you’re always one injury away from irrelevancy and to survive is to succeed.
Every time Barnes takes the court, even now, he feels like he’s auditioning for a job. It’s been that way his whole career: from the Fayetteville Patriots of the D League to Sonics training camp to the ABA’s Long Beach Jam to the Clippers, Kings, 76ers, Knicks, Warriors, Magic, Suns, Lakers and, once again, Clippers. He’s never averaged more than 10.3 points per game or led the league in anything—though he has an outside shot at doing so in personal fouls this season. He does, however, consistently rate well in advanced stats; he’s top 100 all time in Effective Field Goal Percentage and top 40 this season in Real Plus/Minus. But these are not the types of measures that get you big contracts. In over a decade, Barnes has never made even the mid-level exception—approximately $5.3 million—and, up until his current deal, had never signed a contract that lasted more than two seasons.
Two years ago, Forbes named him the most underpaid player in the NBA, Photoshopping him into a janitor’s uniform to make the point.
The rest is in the link:
http://www.si.com/nba/2015/04/10/matt-barnes-los-angeles-clippers-kobe-bryant-lakers-chris-paul
“When he was with the Lakers, I hated him,” says Clippers center DeAndre Jordan. “And I mean hated him.”
Barnes fouls hard. He talks trash. He’ll tackle your star player, fight your center and threaten your owner (these are not hypotheticals; Barnes has done all three during the last two years). He never stops, stalking the court and scowling and cursing so loud that his neck veins distort the topography of his neck tattoo.
All of which causes plenty of NBA players, and fans, to expect the worst when Barnes joins their team, an occurrence which, it should be noted, is all but inevitable. In 12 seasons, the 35-year-old has taken the court alongside everyone from Kobe Bryant to Dwight Howard to Allen Iverson while playing for eight teams. It’s only a matter of time until he joins yours.
But once he does, something strange happens. People don’t just tolerate Barnes, or like him. They love him. “Once he joined us, I was like, ‘Oh yeah, this is going to be great,’” says Jordan. “He’s all about team. All about family.” Clippers point guard Chris Paul says he used to “really hate” Barnes as well, but he now calls him, “an unbelievable teammate”, mentioning “how hard he plays” and his “selflessness.” J.J. Redick played one season in Orlando with Barnes in 2010 and for years after, whenever asked, cited Barnes as his favorite teammate ever. “And I bet,” says Redick, who’s now reunited with Barnes in Los Angeles, “if you ask a bunch of guys that have played with him you’d get the same response.”
*****
When I meet Barnes, on a recent Thursday, one of the first things he says is, “There’s no bulls--- to me.”
He’s seated on a white couch in his waterfront condo in Marina del Rey, Ca. A liquor cabinet in the corner is stocked with Crown Royal and Captain Morgan. To his right, about seven feet up the wall, hangs a regulation basketball hoop, installed for the benefit of his twin six-year-old boys, Isaiah and Carter. Across from the couch, a large flat-screen TV is tuned to the NCAA tournament, where Barnes’ alma mater, UCLA, is playing in the first round. It’s been 13 years since Barnes was in Westwood, where he played with future NBAers Earl Watson, Baron Davis, Jerome Moiso. Dan Gadzuric and Jason Kapono. Today, Barnes is the last one left in the league. He has no illusions about why. “I’m a role player, a journeyman,” he says, “I know who I am.”
There are, Barnes explains, two NBAs. There’s the one you see on TV, populated by LeBron and KD and Chris and Cliff Paul, a world where every paycheck bubbles with zeros, millions of Chinese teenagers rock your jersey and, if you don’t like a coach, you can just get him fired.
And then there’s the NBA where Barnes resides, a, Darwinian landscape where the average playing career is 4.8 years, you’re always one injury away from irrelevancy and to survive is to succeed.
Every time Barnes takes the court, even now, he feels like he’s auditioning for a job. It’s been that way his whole career: from the Fayetteville Patriots of the D League to Sonics training camp to the ABA’s Long Beach Jam to the Clippers, Kings, 76ers, Knicks, Warriors, Magic, Suns, Lakers and, once again, Clippers. He’s never averaged more than 10.3 points per game or led the league in anything—though he has an outside shot at doing so in personal fouls this season. He does, however, consistently rate well in advanced stats; he’s top 100 all time in Effective Field Goal Percentage and top 40 this season in Real Plus/Minus. But these are not the types of measures that get you big contracts. In over a decade, Barnes has never made even the mid-level exception—approximately $5.3 million—and, up until his current deal, had never signed a contract that lasted more than two seasons.
Two years ago, Forbes named him the most underpaid player in the NBA, Photoshopping him into a janitor’s uniform to make the point.
The rest is in the link:
http://www.si.com/nba/2015/04/10/matt-barnes-los-angeles-clippers-kobe-bryant-lakers-chris-paul