Oh no, please don't mention this guy again. Mark Lewinthal must have mentioned his name to me over 500,000 times in the past year. He's team cancer.
My favorite description of a Randolph play was immortalized in the Bill Simmons classic article, "A dumbfounding night in the 'Dumbleavy Era', with the Cavs up 85-83 against the Clips in Los Angeles earlier this year:
0:06: My section is arguing about which terrible play the Clips will run here to save the game. The possibilities are limitless. Maybe they won't top the play in which Baron Davis had to run a half-court lap in seven seconds just to hoist a fallaway 3 with two guys on him (scroll to No. 10 in this column for details), but there's a CHANCE they might top it, and that's why our hearts are racing. These are the moments when I wouldn't trade my Clips tickets for anything. I'm not even kidding.
Well, Dunleavy just upped the ante -- he just put in ice-cold 3-point specialist Steve Novak, who hasn't played all half. This is a Dunleavy crunch-time staple: How can I get the coldest guy on my bench involved in the biggest play of the game? So far, so good. It's like watching the Bizarro Auerbach in action.
So, Gordon is inbounding the ball from the left hashmark near midcourt. Thornton, Novak and Randolph are stacked at the top of the key. Baron is under the basket. Thornton cuts through to the left corner. One Mississippi. Obviously, he's not getting the ball. Baron starts moving up toward the top of the key, only the Cavs know he's getting the ball -- (two Mississippi) -- so they block his way. Everything is congested. The fans start panicking. Three Mississippi. Baron accelerates past the 3-point line, only LeBron sees him and jumps in the way so he can't get the ball. This is an awesome play. Four Mississippi. Gordon finally passes to Randolph, who takes two dribbles and …
(Oh no.)
Picks up his dribble and …
(Nooooooooooooooooooooooo!)
Launches a 28-foot 3-pointer with a hand in his face. His third air-balled 3 of the night. Actually, it was more than an air ball -- it almost killed the ball boy.
Cavs ball, 1.8 seconds left.
The fans are in disbelief. Randolph's teammates are in disbelief. Dunleavy is making a face that my friend Sal later describes as "A face I have never seen a human being make before." What ensued in the next 20 seconds could best be described like this: Imagine being trapped in one of those big hospital elevators with eight other people. One of them pulls his pants down and just starts going to the bathroom -- not No. 1 but No. 2. At that specific moment, the doors open for the next floor. How fast would everyone else in the elevator flee for the door? Lightning-fast, right? Like, Usain Bolt-level fast, right? That was the entire stadium after Z-Bo's air ball. He basically took a dump on the 3-point line.
