Cornell guard Chris Wroblewski played against Jeremy Lin in Ivy League action and, like the rest of the galaxy, blown away by Lin's run with the Knicks. At HoopSpeak, Wroblewski tells Beckley Mason he had no inkling Lin could play with NBA-level talent: "I mean he could barely shake me or the other Cornell defenders, and we’re nowhere near NBA athletes. The other concerns I had included his inconsistent shooting and the fear that he wasn’t a true point guard and couldn’t guard NBA 2-guards."
How guarding the Orlando Magic can produce all the anxieties of a standardized math test, from Benjamin Polk of A Wolf Among Wolves: "When their offense is really humming -- when the ball is moving inside-out and side-to-side, when they time their screens precisely -- it presents the defense with a series of ever more hopeless decisions, each one leading them closer to a doorstep dunk or a wide open three."
Some Spurs fans would like to see Tiago Splitter, who ranks third among San Antonio's big men in minutes per game, get more burn. Andrew McNeill of 48 Minutes of Hell explains that Splitter's injury history provides Gregg Popovich plenty of reasons to go easy on the royal jelly.
John Kay of the Financial Times takes a stab at debunking philosopher Robert Nozick's old Wilt Chamberlain case study as a way to discuss whether bankers make too much money.
The Jeremy Lin story continues to carry momentum to strange places, including a discussion about whether Lin racks up assists because "East Asians tend to view scenes more holistically than westerners."
During the summer of 1979, the Lakers went back and forth on Magic Johnson and Sidney Moncrief.
MVP debates -- not an invention of the internet. Branson Wright of the Cleveland Plain Dealer tackles the very thorny 1961-62 MVP race between Oscar Robertson, Chamberlain and Bill Russell, who was given the award.
A typical date with DeMarcus Cousins involves ... (h/t: Trey Kerby of The Basketball Jones)
Carey Smith of Philadunkia catches up with the leader of a quirky, but spirited, grass-roots movement growing at the Wells Fargo Center during Sixers games. It's called "The Revolutionaries," and they wear funny outfits.