The Works: Luis Scola the Superstar and the Pending Death of USA Basketball

In The Works today: quiet assaults Jerry Colangelo's grand Team USA plan; Angel McCoughtry, the woman who flies; and microfracture claims another victim.

But first, does Luis Scola or any international champion really matter?

The Great Examination: Luis Scola went into, as Rockets GM Daryl Morey described it, "video game god mode" against Brazil on Tuesday, dropping 37 points, including 10 in the final three minutes. Scola's performance is a perfect battle line for those who love and hate international play.

On the one hand, it was an epic performance at a pretty high level of competition -- Scola is a legit starter in the NBA, and he looked as good as ever against Brazil, a team with two NBA big men as well. And beyond that, it was really, really exciting. On the other hand, does anyone ever see Scola doing this in a big NBA game? (For the record, Scola once dropped 44 on the Nets. But this was last March, when the Nets hardly counted as an NBA game and when the Rockets were effectively out of the playoff chase.)

Critics of international basketball as entertainment use that line of reasoning -- it's not NBA-level competition -- often, and it's hard to argue it. It creates a weird double-standard when it comes to Team USA, though, especially when the Americans use a so-called B-team. If Eric Gordon and Kevin Love can play like champs for a virtual All-Star team, why wouldn't their NBA coaches make them team focal points?

It's the opposite for non-American players -- if you aren't killing it for your country in FIBA play, you don't belong in the NBA. Is it simply because it's much more difficult to make Team USA, because there are meaningful cuts? Or is it because the overwhelming depth of talent on Team USA makes being a benchwarmer something more understandable for the masses? (Note that NBA benchwarmers don't get this allowance -- if you aren't playing regularly, you are considered a "scrub," a term that once was a legitimate descriptor but now serves only as a derogatory word.)

Perhaps we can discard these questions soon, as no one can diminish a great performance against Team USA, and pending one more round of action Scola's Argentines are on a course of destiny with the Americans. If Team USA beats Russia and Argentina beats Lithuania (a tough match), the teams would meet in the tournament semifinals, with the winner moving on to the championship game.

In that prospective matchup, Scola would line up across from Kevin Durant, his chief tournament MVP rival. Durant isn't a power forward anywhere but here (or the Goodman League, I suppose). By the same token, the odds of Scola being able to check KD without several layers of help are minimal. It sets up as a terrific scoring battle, maybe a close game and a rousing back-and-forth and hopefully, should it actually happen, an event even those bored with FIBA ball can enjoy.

Maybe if Scola outguns Durant we can come to consensus about what individual FIBA success means in the grand scheme. (TZ)

Yesterday's Papers: I've already devoted at least one chunk of The Works to Jerry Colangelo's incredible shifting plan for our nation's basketball program. Some consider him a pragmatist doing the best he can to maintain his original, European-style model -- despite the reluctance of his players to follow suit. But some of his latest comments on the subject, which appeared in Chris Tomasson's latest Team USA Notebook, make you wonder if there's really anything left of the Promise of 2004.

When asked if anyone from this summer has a shot at the 2012 Olympics, Colangelo gave Kevin Durant his propers, and then launched into this rather peculiar response:

"We'll always have a fluid roster. You're always going to have some turnover going forward because players need to look forward for that opportunity. It's not like with some of the countries that we play against, they'll have the same guys playing two or three Olympics in a row or World Championships. But that's not going to be the case with us. It just can't be. It's not realistic."

I'm sorry, what? America's national basketball program is now "fluid," and the thinking for 2012 (and beyond) is a matter of pools that each summer can draw on? What's more, Colangelo actively contrasts Team USA with those of foreign lands -- the very nations he had once hoped to emulate. Again, maybe Colangelo's being realistic. Wait, never mind, there's no "maybe" about it. Given what the country's best have shown us post-Beijing, there's just nothing Colangelo can do but be flexible and hope for the best. He simply doesn't have the same leverage he did in 2005; Colangelo did such a good job that he rendered himself powerless.

At the same time, where exactly will it end, and why the need to dance around what's happening here: as in the days before Colangelo, these rosters are at the mercy of the players. It actually reminds me a lot of the debate over who would or wouldn't make a strong FIBA player. It started one way, then went another, and eventually ended up being altogether disregarded -- though only because it had basically become meaningless.

Colangelo can't out and out admit this, and who knows, maybe these pools will give rise a well-orchestrated system of moving part, mini-rotations, and staggered tours of duty. Maybe later in the week, Ziller and I will try and mock up just how they might work. I'm thinking flow chart or Tetris-like mosaic. But this represents another paradigm shift, and a plan that Colangelo doesn't seem to have fully thought through, or at least not with any real complexity. Yup, for now, we're on the slippery slope to the way things used to be. (BS)

Earning Her Wings: Everybody with both feet firmly planted in basketball can tell you that defense wins championships. Teams playing defense. That said, few things in the sport -- or any sport -- can match the spectacle of two deadly scorers going head-to-head in a tight playoff contests.

Last night, the Atlanta Dream completed a sweep of the New York Liberty, punching their tickets to the WNBA Finals and continuing their improbable playoff run. But almost as significant as the Dream's win was how it happened. With Atlanta's Angel McCoughtry going for 42, and Cappie Pondexter putting up 36 in the loss, both stars shattered the league's previous playoff record. At the risk of hyperbole, the WNBA has witnessed its first classic postseason scoring duel.

We expect this sort of performance from Pondexter, the league's most dynamic one-on-one player. McCoughtry, on the other hand, is a second-year guard who was going through a bumpy sophomore year after winning Rookie of the Year in 2009.

McCoughtry can't come close to Cappie's arsenal of tricks. Pondexter's crossover is just plain filthy, and in the WNBA, her fadeaway might as well be a laser smuggled in from another dimension. But McCoughtry's speed and athleticism set her apart from pretty much everyone else in the league. She's a 6-1 woman who can routinely get up near the rim -- it's not dunking, but it's damn close. McCoughtry just might be the player who takes the WNBA above the rim; the Storm may be on collision course with destiny, but if McCoughtry stays hot, her postseason might be just as memorable.

Before you go and start breaking out a Lady Jordan narrative -- and admittedly, it is tempting -- there's an important thing to note about McCoughtry. As Quentin McCall of the WNBA blog Swish Appeal puts it, "What's both amazing and still sometimes surprising about McCoughtry is that right now is that she's still somewhat raw -- she's a dominant athlete who is still learning the game and developing rapidly."

If McCoughtry is the player to take the WNBA airborne, it would certainly differ from the way things went down in the NBA. Bill Russell revolutionized defense not only by getting up, but by maneuvering around the defender to attack the ball at the ideal angle. Elgin Baylor didn't just jump -- he added twists and turns that turned two points into a work of art.

As for McCoughtry, at this point she pretty much just out-athletes people on offense. Her preferred means of scoring? Go straight at the rim, ideally in transition, usually off of a turnover she has helped create. As crazy as this might sound after Tuesday's game, her defense might be the most advanced part of her game. But as McCall says, McCoughtry is still developing. Only will tell how her game changes -- or she changes the game. (BS)

Revenge of Microfracture: The Nets cut Sean May less than a month after signing him to a non-guaranteed one-year deal; a stress fracture is reportedly the cause. The cause of Sean May, that sputters again. May played for Sacramento last season, his first foray outside North Carolina since before he starred at UNC. Injuries had helped May wear out his welcome with the Bobcats, with a 2007 microfracture procedure damaging his career the most.

Ah, microfracture, that once-daunting surgery now seen more as an opportunity for rebirth than a death sentence. Since Amar'e Stoudemire's successful microfracture, the procedure is seen in a far less frightening light, but May offers a warning. What happened to May, essentially, is that the long recovery period that follows microfracture forced the big man to get so out of shape he could never recover from that. Microfracture made him fat, and despite months and months (and months and months ...) of hard work -- trust me, this dude works hard in the gym -- he hasn't been able to get to a suitable playing weight.

He did change his game to accommodate his new body; with the Kings, he spent much of his time on offense on the perimeter, stroking 20-footers. That, of course, killed his once-prodigious offensive rebounding ability and most of his post game. On defense, he's predictably slow, but still agile on his feet. He was honestly never going to be a plus defender anyway, and his new body type further cinched that.

But the Nets saw enough to add him as a bench weapon, until that big body detonated itself again. It's not clear any lifestyle change or amount of physical work will get May to a weight at which his bones won't break down. That's a shame, because the Nets (and possibly the game) are losing a smart, kind dude, a great mentor and (if I may be frank) one of the most hilarious comic foils in Twitter history. And before microfracture, he could play.

So curse you again, microfracture, for you have forsaken a friend. NBA: never rest, for microfracture the villain is back, and it is thirsty for blood. (TZ)

The Works is a daily column written by Bethlehem Shoals (@freedarko) and Tom Ziller (@teamziller). Their Undisputed Guide to Pro Basketball History will be available this October.