Three words of free, unsolicited advice for DeMarcus, aka The Cuz, or the Big Cusser of Explicitly-Laced, Boss-Targeted, Locker Room Witnessed Exploits:
One, shut up. Two, shut the hell up. Three, shut the f*ck up.
Coach Keith Smart may be a blabbering buffoon without a formidable plan, a logical substitution strategy, or an astute sense of time and situation when games are remotely winnable.
But he calls the shots. He’s the dude in charge, until further league induced humiliation, until he digs his own grave, until the downtrodden higher ups declare ‘no mas’.
The shovel is soiled, and the hole in the ground is expanding, but hyperactive life remains.
Passion to succeed is awesome. Constructive, self-directed passion is better. Belligerent and self-destructive passion is not passion at all. It is idiocy run amok.
DeMarcus is an emotional idiot. And by definition that makes him a boy, an emotional child making $5,000,000 a year.
Just call him DeBoy.
Following a one game suspension and reinstatement, the question bears asking:
Are you a boy or a man, DeMarcus Cousins?
Never mind, don’t answer that. Your words carry no weight. And neither does your performance most of this season.
DeBoy has had a few good games. And when he brings it like the bad ass he aspires to be, and can be, the team competes.
27 and 7 versus GSW - WIN
23 and 15 versus GSW = WIN
21 and 11 versus DET = WIN
17 and 14 versus ORL = WIN
19 and 12 versus POR = WIN
25 and 13 versus TOR = WIN
14 and 9 versus UTA = WIN
When Cousins makes assertive, yet patient, decisions out of the post, which occurs about 1 out of every 5 games, and 1 out of 10 games in the 4th quarter, the team has good chance for victory.
But that’s the rub, and the source of the continuous B.S. that has threatened the season almost as soon as it began.
DeBoy is not making smart reads, or honoring the challenge that opponents offer. He can’t find a reliable scoring move, or countermove, with his back to the basket. His face up game is rushed and inconsistent. His jump shot betrays him as often as it rewards. His slimmed down physique has not translated into increased finishing skill around the rim.
It wasn't suppose to be this way. DeBoy was suppose to make the leap from budding star to self-realized, dominant NBA stud.
Instead he is shooting a woeful 41%. His post moves are getting denied. The refs are showing him little respect, and the budding chemistry with teammates from a season past, namely with Isaiah and his pick and roll, dime dropping prowess, and Marcus Thornton, and his floor spacing, deep shooting prowess, have been stifled because the head coach chose to get cute and stupid with his line-ups.
Yet, despite the adversity, DeBoy should know better.
A man controls his emotions, mostly, and controls his anger before it gets ridiculously embarrassing. A man seeks camaraderie with his fellow colleague to a shared purpose. A man aspires to elevate those around him, wanting their success as much as he does his own. A man does not seek to blame, find scapegoat, or proclaim excuse. He assumes responsibility, accepts the role of a needed leader, and the humility of someone with wisdom yet to be acquired.
There is a simple explanation for the outburst at the Spurs announcer and the profanity-laced tirade directed at Coach Smart in the locker room, yet one that seems to escape the mental grasp of the Sactown Royalty loyalists.
DeBoy is frustrated and angry with himself, at his own under-achievement, and his own inability to realize his full potential in his third pro season.
DeBoy is not a bad dude. He is peeved he is not owning the league.
Accordingly, a cauldron of mindless angst has spilled over at convenient but undeserved targets, including the family jewels of an unsuspecting antagonist.
No one, or nothing, is safe when DeBoy gets angry.
It bears mention that DeBoy went a relatively long stretch after the former coach was replaced with zero incidents like we have witnessed this season. A few technical fouls were whistled over the course of 50+ games, but that was primarily the refs hyper-vigilance where his play was concerned.
DeBoy made progress in his body language, attitude, and referee interaction as his play progressed to efficient, occasionally dominant, display.
That progress has come to crashing halt.
There have been moments of relatively mature reflection in which DeBoy has admitted he was playing less than to his potential, and his confidence has been hit hard like a shot to the groin. Yet in the midst of competition, when his vision of dominance has failed to manifest, his better instincts have failed him.
So what now?
I advocate a new role as first man off the bench, starting the day after X-Mas, as a spoonful of humility, as ground floor for potential redemption, as motivation to rise from the depths of disappointment, to assert his will and intention, and to evolve belatedly from boy to man.
Your move, Cuz.