The Point God
On the first day Christopher Emmanuel Paul descended from on high and unleashed holy fire on the frothing, heretical denizens of Chesapeake Energy Arena. His three pointers described the stately dance of newborn planets, the parabolic rise and fall their very orbits. Eight times he shot, and eight times they fell, the crisp snap of nylon a volcanic roar in the soundless void of the quieted stadium. Eight shots for eight planets. The ninth shot would not fall true, and thus the ninth planet remained... lesser.
Anyone who knows mythology understands that the theme of sacrifice runs rampant throughout most of them. The Norse in particular understood this, and their highest god symbolizes this perfects. Odin sacrificed his eye to gain wisdom. Chris Paul lost a lot of the speed and quickness he had relied upon early in his career when he tore the lateral meniscus in his right knee. Instead he gained a patience and court awareness that borders on prescient. Other players manage the play or the clock, Chris Paul manages the entire game, picking and choosing his spots to take over -- which, as the Thunder found out Monday, sometimes includes the first three quarters. All of them.
Anyone who knows mythology understands that the theme of sacrifice runs rampant throughout most of them. The Norse in particular understood this, and their highest god symbolizes this perfects. Odin sacrificed his eye to gain wisdom. Chris Paul lost a lot of the speed and quickness he had relied upon early in his career when he tore the lateral meniscus in his right knee. Instead he gained a patience and court awareness that borders on prescient. Other players manage the play or the clock, Chris Paul manages the entire game, picking and choosing his spots to take over -- which, as the Thunder found out Monday, sometimes includes the first three quarters. All of them.
In homage to the God of the Point we honor he and his kin's gift to we mere mortals. The Basketball Gods live among us.
The Trickster God
Rajon Rondo does things with a basketball no one else has ever envisioned. He is a b-ball illusionist that will make you doubt your own eyes. The man is routinely referred to as a warlock, and he has the skills (and attitude) to match. He's the Loki of the NBA, and its only a matter of time (and teammates) until he grabs powers.
The God of Music
Steph Curry's shot is a work of art. When he pulls up from 28 feet and nails a three ball it has all the arrogant swagger of an underground rap battle combined with the heart-pounding crescendo of a full symphonic orchestra. He puts the Dub in dubstep. The Golden Gate Bridge on his jersey may as well be the harp strings he strums to lull defenders into a false sense of security as they chase him around screen after brutal percussive Aussie screen.
The God of Thunder
This one was easy, there isn't a point guard in the league who plays with as much relentless ferocity as Russell Westbrook. The man is a force of nature unto himself. Kevin Durant rightfully gets a lot of credit for the success of the team, but it's Russ who draws a thundercloud when the Supersonics Thunder under perform. At his best you get the ridonkulous 27-16-10 line he dropped on the Grizz in Game 7 (and if you look past the blowout in Game 1 against the Clips, Russ had himself a game). At his worst you get 31 points on 30 shots, all of which feel like they were off balance three pointers. Can't have Thunder without the lightning.
The Sun God
I wanted to go with The Dragon, I really, really did. But with all due respect to the straw that stirs the Suns' drink, Tony Parker is your god of the sun. He can and will burn you in every conceivably way. He's unstoppable in transition, his pick and roll game is the stuff of legends, and his pull ups off the dribble are deadly. But that spin move -- that spin move. Parker's spin is a gravitational force; it deserves its own exhibit in The Lourve. He controls defenders with his dribble as well as anyone in the league. He fricasseed the Mavericks in Game 7 to the tune of 31 points, then went supernova on the poor, unsuspecting Blazers in dropping 32. He may need to borrow some of those White Hot shirts from LeBron. Speaking of which...
The God of War
LeBron James is probably the second best passer in the league, second only to The Point God himself, and it's not even all that close. He's so strong that his passes outrun the defense's perception of the play. Cross court passes over the top of the defense are a coach's nightmare, but LeBron launches them like javelin missiles to waiting shooters. From the top of the key or from the wings or from the block, he has no issue finding teammates anywhere on the court, leading to some absolutely gorgeous ball movement. Exhibit A: the dismantling of the Nets vaunted defense in the third quarter Tuesday night. He racked up hockey assist after hockey assist in that decisive twelve minutes. He directs the Heat war machine with utter surety and amusing barks at Rio Chalmers.
Honorable mentions:
The God of Chance: Damian Lillard
The God of Outcasts: Mario Chalmers
The God of Night: Mike Conley Jr.
The God of Feasts: Raymond Felton
