The Works: Gilbert Arenas Is Not Michael Vick; NBA Watchability Index

Today in The Works: we present, with a little help from the 2010-11 Pro Basketball Prospectus, the NBA Watchability Index; it's preview time for the Nets and Kings.

But first, how Gilbert Arenas is nothing like Michael Vick.

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At media day, Gilbert Arenas said everything would be different. The one-time clown prince of the NBA, humbled by injuries and thrown off track by a certain firearms incident, is strictly business from here on out. The press will get all the right lines. On the court, Arenas will crack a smile only when he's earned it through his play.

It's important to note, though, that Gil -- whatever he may have learned over the last few years -- isn't saying he's a better or more mature person. Gilbert Arenas wants us to know, simply, that he has figured out what's acceptable in polite society. JaVale McGee expects nothing less than the same old Gilbert in the intimate space of the locker room.

Comebacks are supposed to be morally unimpeachable, or at least scrubbed clean. The NBA axed Comeback Player of the Year because all the winners were returning from drug problems. Arenas hasn't played any extended period of time since 2007, in large part for health reasons, but no one remembers that. It's the Wizards locker room showdown, and the irreverence that followed, that finally put Gil in the public eye. He's not just expected to play well again -- he's supposed to have learned from his mistakes.

Yet the crux of Arenas's comments isn't that he's seen the light, but that he'll be more professional. That doesn't mean that Arenas is any different as a person. McGee says as much. And then we're left asking: if Gil has simply learned how to (pun intended) play the game, will this comeback be accepted?


This weekend, BET re-ran some episodes of "The Michael Vick Project," a 2009 reality show that chronicled Vick's efforts to put his life back together, get back to the NFL, and come to grips with his sins. As the pride of the Falcons, Vick was at once arrogant and taciturn. Maybe he was just bad with the press. But no reports from behind the scenes gave any indications that Michael Vick was particularly open, trusting, or expressive. More than once, he was described as dense. While much of America will never forgive Vick, there's no question that he's changed.

For the moment, Vick has seized the Eagles starting quarterback job, and has proven to be a more dangerous, fluid, and well-rounded football player than in his first go-round. Somewhere between the freak athlete that once captivated the league, and the astute pocket passer that all running QBs are expected to grow into, Michael Vick has in two games established himself as one of the NFL's premier attractions.

Some will take comfort, or read too much into, the fact that Vick is now a more disciplined player. Style can, at times, have a moral valence to it. But what has turned Vick from arch-fiend into an athlete on the mend isn't just his resurgent star power. In sharp contrast to his wooden, blank statements at the time of his sentence, or even his stolid 60 Minutes interview with James Brown after his release, the man captured in "The Michael Vick Project" is downright effusive.

Granted, through the magic of multiple takes and producer coaching, anyone can come off as transformed. The maudlin soundtrack certainly helps, and really, it's not that hard to say "it was wrong to electrocute those dogs" and mean it.

But as one particularly grim episode points out, that Vick thought dog fighting was OK is as much a problem as the fact that he participated in it. That's why reformed gang members can be so valuable to the community. Getting someone to break out of the way they were brought up, and then having him go out and try to affect this change in others, is -- if not salvation -- at least a move in the right direction. Vick may not be anyone's idea of a perfect human being, but if this country still loves the possibility of making amends, repenting, and trying for some sort of redemption, then his story now officially registers as a comeback, not just a return to football by a bad, bad man.

All of which brings us back to Arenas. His entire statement consisted of saying, more or less, "I know better now." Of course that means no more guns in the Verizon Center, but the focus isn't on the danger he put himself and others in. Gilbert Arenas didn't have a problem with guns, he had one with responsibility. He may be the consummate professional from here on out, but all that means is that his personality, and occasional lapses in judgment, won't get in the way of playing basketball for the Washington Wizards.

Arenas is more post-Brawl Ron Artest than Michael Vick redux. He's not unrepentant; he just wishes the whole thing had never happened. Artest has remained downright batty over the years, but as we all learned during the Finals, has sought psychological help to keep his personality from capsizing his career. It's not about learning to tell right from wrong, but figuring out how to fit pegs into holes. Neither reckless gun possession nor attacking fans are good decisions, no matter who you are. But they don't automatically turn an athlete into the enemy -- just a running punchline.

The problem, though, is that they inhabit a nether-region that makes it impossible to ever fully cure them. It says as much about the lens through which we view sports as it does the game's great eccentrics, and in the end, explains why Michael Vick can make a comeback while Arenas and Artest are always going to be stuck with who they are. (BS)


Watchability Index 2010-11

For NBA teams, there's more to being the best than being the best. At least, that is, if you're talking about inspiring fans to watch your games in the dark, cold winter of the NBA season. Some take this to mean that we need fewer games; these are the same ones who throw up their hands and exclaim, like a man in solitary, "no basketball is better than this basketball." We call these people fools. Tapping into the mother lode of subjective goodness, The Works has put together the definitive measure of whether or not a team will be worth your hard-earned League Pass dollars.

Quality: Projected wins taken from the 2010-11 Pro Basketball Prospectus. It's difficult to watch mediocrity on the regular, so quality turns out being the most important (and heavily weighted) aspect of Watchability.

Pace: Speed of play, based on last year's statistics and any coaching or major personnel changes. Up-tempo teams are more fun to watch. That's science.

Star Power: This is a league of stars. Is there one guy you will watch on every play?

Long-Term Potential: Everyone likes to gaze into the future and say he was there first.

Style: Style points don't win games, but they count for something.

Narrative: Is there a story here, a hook that lends itself to playoff intros?

Spirituality: Where amazing happens, you love this game, and any weeknight can give you chills like the Finals buzzer.

And now, with help from Kevin Pelton and the 2010-11 Pro Basketball Prospectus, the NBA Watchability Index '10-11: