SAPPORO, Japan -- Here we are on the eve of Day 1 of the World Championship, and my heart tells me to go ahead and pick Team USA to win the gold. The U.S. players have developed a great camaraderie, they finally have a head coach who knows which buttons to push, and their confidence is not compromised by any misplaced iness.
The problem, however, resides a few inches south of my heart.
Down there, in my gut, I can't bring myself to pick them. Not when my gut keeps telling me to listen to my brain, and not when my brain keeps seizing upon what I perceive to be their shortcomings -- size and shooting, to name two -- and flashing back to images from 2002 in Indianapolis and 2004 in Athens, and even from compe ions that preceded those two debacles.
I look at a roster headlined by tri-captains Dwyane Wade, LeBron James and Carmelo Anthony, I rehash everything I've heard them say about making good after their third-place showing in Athens, and I'm tempted to buy into the rah-rah dynamic, dub these guys The Redeem Team and tell y'all how great they're going to do down south in Saitama when the medal round comes along.
But I just can't do it.
Here are 10 reasons why:
1. The experience factor. Most of the better teams in this tournament have been playing together for years and years, not just a few weeks. The players from Argentina have been together since they were on their national junior squad, giving them almost a decade of tournament experience together. The international game is more of a team game than the NBA game, and nothing builds a team quite like growing up together as a unit. Team USA can't compete in this category.
2. The 3-point factor. The international 3-point line is nearly three feet closer to the basket than the NBA line, putting a huge premium on the outside shot. This U.S. team has more shooters than the 2004 Athens team, but there's still no Ray Allen or Michael Redd. And if Joe Johnson pulls a Richard Jefferson and suddenly can't hit the broad side of a barn, trouble lurks.
3. The officiating factor. Squirreled away in a tiny hotel room somewhere here is a referee who can't wait to see LeBron James alone on a breakaway -- not to see him dunk, mind you, but to whistle him for traveling. FIBA referees seem to take a perverse pleasure in seeing the U.S. lose, and if you don't believe me, go ask Tim "FIBA Sucks" Duncan.
4. The familiarity factor. Everyone around the world watches NBA basketball, but try to find a single U.S. player who watches Euroleague games. The opponents know the Americans' tendencies inside and out, but most of the international players are mysteries to Team USA.
5. The physicality factor. FIBA referees will call hand-checking fouls like they're going out of style, but they'll let players get away with armed combat underneath the basket without calling a foul. That doesn't bode well for skinny Chris Bosh, and it'll be an eye-opener for young Dwight Howard.
6. The overconfidence factor. The U.S. will cruise through the opening round, but the quality of the opponents it will see in the single-elimination medal round will be a whole different matter. If Team USA's confidence gets artificially high after the first week, it won't enter the medal round with the healthy respect for its opponents that it needs.
7. The rock-hard, slippery ball factor. The U.S. team been practicing since day one with the slightly smaller Molten ball used in FIBA tournaments, but those balls are broken in. It'll be a different story down the road when some tournament lackey breaks out a brand-new ball for a U.S. game. Happens every time.
8. The food factor. If you don't like Japanese food, you can subsist over here on American fast food. But try eating that stuff for three weeks, and watch your energy level plummet in inverse proportion to your climbing cholesterol count.
9. The smell factor. This is a little disgusting, but it's true: Some of these teams stink, literally. Players on international teams travel to and from the arenas in their uniforms, and many players forsake showers as a result. I got a really close look at Argentina during the Worlds in Indianapolis, and I do not believe Fabricio Oberto, Luis Scola or Andres Nocioni bathed during the entire tournament. BO may be repulsive, but it also keeps defenders a few extra inches away.
10. The fear factor. International teams are no longer afraid of U.S. teams, and since they always go into games against Team USA as underdogs, they play with a looseness that often works in their favor.
We didn't even list the fatigue factor, and that'll be a big deal too. It always is.
I've been covering U.S. national teams since the 1996 Olympics, each tournament leaving a snapshot in my mind not of dominance, but of deterioration. Team USA always shows up with the most talent, but always leaves looking the most exhausted.
In Atlanta 10 years ago, Karl Malone was at the airport and on a plane back home just a couple of hours after the U.S. team used a strong surge at the start of the second half to break open a close game and defeat Yugoslavia for the gold. The bombing in Olympic Park, the substandard accommodations at the Omni Hotel and the unyielding heat and humidity had drained all the enthusiasm out of Team USA, and Malone's determination to put it all behind him as quickly as possible ended up being a precursor for what I'd see from U.S. national teams over the next decade. It was always the same in the end: Exhaustion sapped their spirit, and when all was said and done, the U.S. players just wanted to go home.
Four years ago in Indianapolis, the limousines were lined up outside the Westin Hotel on what we journalists were calling "The Darkest Night." It was the Saturday before the gold medal game between Argentina and Yugoslavia, and Team USA had just been thumped by Spain in the fifth-place game to finish 6-3 in the tournament.
Most of the U.S. players dashed back to their rooms, hastily packed their bags and jumped into their limos for the drive to Chicago and flights to points beyond. The coaching staff and officials from USA Basketball convened in the hotel bar late that evening and tried to find a bright side, reasoning that the sixth-place finish might somehow be good for USA Basketball because there would never again be a fear among players of being on the first U.S. team of the Dream Team era to lose.
Team USA came back the next year with a loaded team that romped through the Tournament of the Americas qualifying tournament in Puerto Rico, putting a thorough beating on Argentina in the gold medal game. But a year later, with apathy and terrorism fears peaking, more than two-thirds of that team had jumped ship heading into the Athens Olympics.
It was there that we saw the beginning of Larry Brown's fall from grace. His stubborn refusal to play James, Wade and Anthony contributed to Team USA's putrid performance in the opening round when it lost to Puerto Rico and Lithuania and had trouble defeating the host country, Greece. The U.S. then moved on to the medal round and was back-picked and backdoored to death by Argentina in the semifinals.
I still remember it like it was yesterday -- the USA defeated Lithuania for the bronze, and then I sat in the press tribune and watched the medal ceremony after Argentina defeated Italy for the gold. U.S. forward Richard Jefferson stood farthest to the right on the medal podium, his eyes repeatedly shifting to his right as he stole a glance at the gold medals draped around the necks of Ginobili, Pepe Sanchez, Ruben Wolkowyski and the rest of the Argentines, whose flag-waving, shirt-throwing celebration seemed to last almost an hour after the gold medal game ended.
I still recall how mystifying and absurd it was to be gazing down on Allen Iverson wearing a flowery wreath on his head (don't ask me why the IOC makes athletes wear those things; I wish I knew the answer) and a bronze medal around his neck. I have never seen any player looking as uncomfortable as he did at that moment.
Some might say all that history should mean nothing, but I can't buy into that argument. To me, it means a lot. The cycle keeps repeating, and I believe it could repeat itself three Sundays from now.
AP Photo/Wong Maye-E
Spain, featuring Grizzlies star Pau Gasol, enters the tourney on a roll.
I expect the U.S. team to roar through the opening round, tested by no one other than Slovenia, and I expect complacency to set in prior to its Round of 16 single-elimination game on Sunday, Aug. 27. Team USA will win that one in a game that ends up being closer than it should have been, and will be so awakened and rejuvenated for the quarterfinal match that it will be considered a shoo-in for the gold.
But then the semifinals will arrive, and Team USA will run into that Basque-etball buzzsaw, Spain.
That's the one I'm picking Team USA to lose, and I see Pau Gasol's team going on to defeat Argentina in the gold medal game.
Team USA will win third place over Greece, and Wade, Anthony and James will have another bronze entry for their sock drawers.
In two years, maybe I'll be ready to pick them to win the gold medal in Beijing. For now, I believe España es Número Uno, y Argentina es Número Dos.
We'll eventually see a true Redeem Team in 2008, but for now, in my opinion, Team USA is working its way up the learning curve. As an American, I hope I'm wrong. But as a seasoned and trained objective observer, that's the way I see this thing unfolding.
We'll know by Labor Day whether I am right