THE GLORIOUS GUEST POST: T-MAC AND THE SPRING OF HOPE

Hello, friends. Again, I'm not Neate, although I often wish I could be. Rather, I'm Ted, and I often write here, although oftentimes it seems I contribute to every blog under the sun. I probably do. I'm just that bored.

With the start of the NBA playoffs Saturday afternoon, and given the fact that Neate is holed up in a corner watching nothing more and nothing less than Alex Rios swing instruction videos and old Ed Belfour tapes, I thought it might be good if someone around here discussed something related to the NBA... and not Vince Carter. But, uh, someone close to him:

I lived in Houston from 2003 to 2005. This was, as some hoops heads may know, the period where T-Mac came over from the Magic to form a dynamic duo with Yao - an odd, "superstar from the biggest country in the world / superstar with a poetic, longing soul" tandem - and set Houston on its ear.

See, at the time, the Astros were good - they made the NLCS that year - but not great (they wouldn't get swept by the White Sox until the next year). The Texans were, well, the Texans, with David Carr spending more time on his arse than Sidney Crosby with the refs looking right at him. Houston needed a savior, and it got it in the form of T-Mac. Yao wasn't there yet, Dikembe was old, and Juwan Howard - well, when was the last time he was relevant?

In 2004, T-Mac led the league in scoring again (28.0 PPG). Yao was starting to come around a little bit, emerging from the "phenom" side of the dominant athlete to the actual "athlete" side. Still, in a year it seemed the entire world was rooting against the Lakers, we fell to them in five, in the first round.

The next season, I got into the Rockets a lot more. I checked out a few games, a "live blog" of which (as much as a recap of a game played 2 years ago can be a "live blog") you can read here. T-Mac was becoming a legitimate star, in terms of not necessarily having to carry a team, which he did throughout his Orlando days, but understanding his role more. It seemed like him and Yao were realizing things about how champions are built at the exact same moment, and for Houston fans - and remember, at this point in the '05 season the Astros looked utterly hideous - this was a grand thing.

We ended up taking Dallas to 7 in a series so exciting that my then-girlfriend got into it periodically, ultimately losing a Game 7 so boring (the Rockets lost by 40) that I fell asleep shortly after halftime, Sierra Nevada in hand. It wasn't pretty.

I relate these seemingly random series of memories with a purpose in mind. When Peyton Manning won the Super Bowl a few months back, sports pundits clamored to find the next great athlete with a monkey on his back. Eyes immediately pointed in the direction of the Bronx, and A-Rod; that's legitimate, as is the potential Donovan McNabb claim in Philadelphia. Those guys need titles.

But in a way, couldn't you argue T-Mac, if not at the "title" level than at the whole "Kevin Garnett" level where you need a first round win? Consider: T-Mac and Vince, in Toronto - swept by the Knicks in 3. T-Mac with a 3-1 lead (as a 8 seed!) over the Pistons (!), virtually guarantees victory, and then O-Town loses. He never gets out da first round in Florida. In Houston: 4-1 in '04 to Showtime, 4-3 to a burgeoning Dirk and company in '05, no playoffs in '06.

In the meantime, T-Mac has battled depression, told TNT that his body is "declining," had to watch Yao become a legitimate MVP candidate (which should be even further along, pending injury, next season) - thus becoming a secondary option on a team that was once unequivocally his, seen Vince Carter continue to blossom athletically (if, truly, never winning anything of substance himself), and seen himself surpassed as an unparalleled scorer and dunk artist by many his age and newer.

T-Mac isn't T-Mac anymore. He's Tracy McGrady, out there for everyone to see; an open book with a few ink blots, and some Chinese characters drawn in. And you know what? That might be what he needs.

With the way Utah finished the season, penciling in a Houston victory isn't that far fetched. A Houston vs. Dallas series would represent the oft-ignored end of the "Texas Three Step" in the NBA - because everyone's waiting for Dallas vs. San Antonio in the Conference Finals - but expect, assume even that Rockets vs. Mavericks V. '07 will go another seven games. T-Mac and Yao are blossoming at the right time, and the Mavs have these odd mental lapses (i.e. every time they play the Warriors) which allow dynamic duos to score in bunches. Same stuff'll happen in 2-3 games against the Rockets.

Let's just hope Game 7 is a little better, alright? And let's hope Kevin Harlan is calling it...

The point, though, is this: there's a big arse monkey on the back of one Tracy McGrady, but it's good that it's on his back. T-Mac couldn't handle that. The maturation of McGrady, from a superstar with dance moves and throwdowns to rock the O-Rena to a ball-sharing, border-crossing combo forward whose as comfortable talking shop with Ernie Johnson as Jeff Van Gundy, has made him into a better man. A better player, too. This is the spring of hope for Tracy McGrady. I'll be right there, like I was in '04 and '05, cheering.