Spending a few days with the most powerful man in women’s hoops:

But the truth is, Geno is an egomaniac, if an egomaniac can be defined as someone deluded enough, certain enough of his own grandeur, of his own infinite possibilities, that he sets as his goal in life the unattainable, Perfection. “It’s simple,” Shea Ralph, a former player and now a UConn assistant coach, told me. “The problem is that Geno has a vision in his head of the perfect game, and we’re supposed to play it. If we’re ahead by 30 at the half, he’ll tell us how pitiful we are.”

On the myth of the crunch-time scorer:

The goal of hero ball is not necessarily to outscore your opponent. The goal of hero ball is, instead, appeasing egos, saving coaching jobs, kowtowing to talking heads and mollifying idiot owners sitting on the floor. If hero ball is tangentially about winning basketball games, it’s about winning them only through the least efficient, most predictable means of doing so.

A former phenom struggles to find a life beyond basketball:

Cooke, who will turn 30 next month, has yet to discover what or who he is supposed to be since it became obvious years ago that he would not fulfill his once presumed destiny and become an N.B.A. star.

A decade ago, many were predicting that Cooke, a New York City prodigy, would become a basketball shoe pitchman and would flaunt his wares and skills at All-Star weekends like the recent aerial show in Orlando, Fla. There was a time, however fleeting, when he was more heralded, or perhaps merely hyped, than any other high school player in America.

Why Marv Albert is the finest play-by-play man in the business. Really.

Unchecked rock lore holds that Pearl Jam were first called Mookie Blaylock. Here’s the real story.

“I just want to hoop,” Durant told Michael Lee of the Washington Post on Saturday. “I do it for everybody back here that really don’t get a chance to see me that much. I just want to break the barrier. A lot of NBA players don’t do it as often as I do it now, before. Guys may come, play one or two games, but I play all summer, so I just want to break the barrier, show them that I’m regular.”

Three years later, the Pro-Am claims as alumni almost 20 NBA players, the last two no. 1 picks in the NBA draft, key members from two of the last three NCAA champions, and basically every college icon in the last five years with any connection to the state of North Carolina. In 2009, when a spindly teenager from Raleigh named John Wall dunked on Jerry Stackhouse, the league’s celebrity host, blotches of empty seats dotted the stadium’s lower level. But come 2010, about 1,000 people were turned away at the door for an ACC preview between UNC and NC State. It was such a spectacle that one of the absent Tar Heels, Leslie McDonald, immediately got an earful from Harrison Barnes about missing the run. “I regretted it,” McDonald said.

How the erstwhile all-stars kicked off their lockout tour in the Philippines.

On Ali’s history in Miami and LeBron’s future:

LeBron James is the same age now that Muhammad Ali was when a jury found him guilty of resisting the draft. That year was the lowest of low points in Ali’s career. He was stripped of his titles and his licenses to box. It would be another seven years before Muhammad Ali would regain the title in Zaire against George Foreman. During those seven years, Ali would grow spiritually, intellectually, and emotionally. He left the Nation of Islam, became a Sunni Muslim, apologized for his treatment of Malcolm X, reconciled with fighters he had humiliated (he even called Henry Cooper to compliment him on his left hook), became a philanthropist, and sought out a role as an international advocate of peace. He grew to become one of the most respected and beloved public figures in the world.

An examination into the mysterious brilliance of Marshon Brooks.

Jerry Joseph was a basketball dream: six feet five and built like LeBron. Then the rumors started—and suddenly the 16-year-old golden boy was more illusion than dream.

On Skip Bayless, driveway basketball, and a father’s suicide:

Bank shots took the form of therapy. I was angry about my dad dying — even if I didnt show it — and I needed to hurl the ball against the backboard. But I was in a tender enough emotional state that I needed to be good at something, too. The fiberglass backboard came through on both counts. It was like shooting a silky Rabbit Angstrom jumper and committing a flagrant foul in the same motion. My mom looked out the kitchen window and probably thought this was how you were supposed to play basketball.