I mentioned Outliers in my last post for a reason....I've been reading this 3 part email exchange between ESPN.com's Bill Simmons, who apparently is still alive, and the author of Outliers, Malcom Gladwell. Seriously, don't miss it. The links to the whole exchange with funny excerpts that give you a feel for Gladwell's style. I don't quote dead people, so Bill Simmons is out of luck:
Part 1
I'm not buying Holmes, though. One of the big reasons boxing was in such a slump during Larry Holmes' peak was the fact that the dominant boxer during Larry Holmes' peak was … Larry Holmes. I'm sure he was a nice guy and all. But this is a man who spent almost all of his boxing winnings acquiring real estate in Easton, Pa. Think about this. You have just made gazillions of dollars. You can buy houses anywhere in the world. And you chose Easton? This is a sport entirely dependent upon the charisma of its champions, and Holmes didn't have any. (This reminds me of the police corruption scandal in the NYPD in the early 1990s, when this police officer in Brooklyn was found to be stealing millions of dollars in cash from the drug dealers he was busting. When he got caught, it was discovered he owned a fleet of cars and boats and multiple homes in … Long Island.) You skim a million in cash off some crack dealer, and you splurge by buying a split-level in Hicksville to go with the bungalow you already own in Smithtown. Is there anything more depressing than people with money but no imagination?
Part 2
Let's set the record straight on Jennifer Aniston. She was not hitting on me. I think she was bored because her friends hadn't arrived yet. She just wanted to make conversation. And what was my excuse? I don't really have one. I was trying to work, and I wasn't wearing my glasses, and who on earth thinks Jennifer Aniston is going to sit down next to them in some random cafe in Miami and start chatting away? So I gave her that don't-bother-me glare, and then about five minutes passed and I thought to myself, "You know, she was really cute." And another five minutes passed and I thought, "You know, she looks really familiar." And another five minutes passed and I thought, "You idiot." And by then it was too late, of course. The window of opportunity for a woman like that is 45 seconds, max. By the time I got the check, I think she'd already started dating John Mayer. Sigh.
Part 3
Or how about eliminating the draft altogether? I'm at least half-serious here. Think about it. Suppose we let every college player apply for and receive job offers in the same way that, oh, every other human being on the planet does. That doesn't mean that everyone goes to L.A. and New York, because you still have the constraints of the cap. It does mean, though, that both players and teams would have to make an affirmative case for each other's services. So you trade for Steve Nash or Jason Kidd, because they make you instantly attractive to every mobile big man coming out of college. Instead of asking the boring question -- which team is going to be lucky enough to draft Derrick Rose? -- we ask the far more interesting question: Which team, out of every team in the league, should Derrick Rose play for? Or suppose you're the T-Wolves, and you've been a doormat for years. You could say, "From now on we're a clean-living, Christian organization. We have prayer meetings before every game. We are home by 11. We never do drugs." Then you'd have the inside track on every clean-living college basketball player in the country. Are there enough quality religious players out there to win a championship? There must be! (By the way, why has no one ever put together the all-time clean-living starting five? And how great a name for a franchise is the "Minnesota Christians?")
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