Andray Blatche: 73 G, 7 GS, 22.2 MPG, 11.2 PPG, 5.3 RPG, 1.5 APG, 1.03 SPG, 0.52 BPG, .476 FG% .278 3P%, .742 FT%, 18.85 PER, 6.6 EWA
I’m not going to lie: the Andray Blatche season grade post took me the longest to complete. Not because I had a lot to write, but because I’m not sure how to grade him. What performance rank do you give a man whose performance defies logic’s very nature?
So here’s a retelling of some of the things I’ve written about Andray Blatche just in our game grades this season. Remember, game grades are an at-the-buzzer feature, occasionally wrought with the immediate emotional impact of a game. So hopefully you can get an idea just what Andray Blatche has done to my liver.
November 5th: Andray Blatche isn’t an enigma, he’s a random wavelength, bobbing up and down throughout the game with no regard for rhythm.
Blatche almost Blatched as Blatche as he Blatched against the Pistons, but it was slightly less Blatche because he Blatched the shot.
— devin kharpertian (@uuords) November 27, 2013
November 30th: If he were a chef, he’d season and cook a 24-oz Porterhouse to perfection and then garnish it with a bowl of raw salmon.
December 10th: Andray Blatche ran the floor behind Paul Pierce, absorbed contact, and flipped up a layup in the first quarter, while adding just the right amount of paprika to his roasted chicken recipe. Andray Blatche caught the ball on the left block, stared at the basket, and threw a shot directly into his defender as he then set his chicken on fire. Blatche put the fire out just in time to give it a smoky flavor during some great possessions near the basket in the third quarter fighting for loose balls, then took some ill-advised isolation possessions during dessert when he poured garlic salt all over a hot fudge sundae.
December 13th: He’s an atomic clock encrusted with $1.4 million worth of diamonds that only tells time four days a week. Give him a ton of credit for helping bring the team back in the fourth quarter, and take some away for his ridiculous mistakes in the first half. I give him a “B,” which equates to “Scattered Elephant” at the Milford School.
January 8th: How do you give a letter grade to someone that defies the alphabet? He is Schrödinger’s Blatche: simultaneously winning and losing the game in his own mind. I give him a B for Blatche, because give me a reason not to.
January 21st: Phone rings.
“Hello, this is Billy King. I’m looking for a player with the size to dunk on Kyle O-Quinn, the range to hit a corner three-pointer, and the total lack of self-awareness needed to do both in rapid succession.”
“Hello, this is Andray Blatche, I was referred to you?”
February 12th: Makes Sochi look organized.
March 5th: Called up Billy King and I’m askin y’all
Which court are y’all playin’ basketball?
Get me in Barclays and I’m gonna ball
Tonight, messed around and dream shook Gasol
Eurosteppin’ on fools every way like M.J.
I can believe, today was a good Dray.
March 12th: ALL ABOARD! Thanks for buying a ticket to the Blatche train, which runs only once every 27 minutes, except we choose the 27 minutes. Instead of train tracks, we run on hopes and Eurosteps, and instead of relying on fossil fuel we burn cognizance and fundamentals. We recommend a barf bag. Enjoy your trip!
March 17th: You don’t get out of the way of the Blatche train, the Blatche train builds rails around you, and don’t you dare touch any of them because they’re all the third rail.
April 2nd: Blatche gets an A+ for his performance of the first two acts of his final project for interpretive dance class “Blatchepedaling,” a tragic tale of a man meant to initiate contact and defend against opponent attacks, but instead stuck in a world with invisible barriers between himself and humanity’s touch.
April 4th: I WANT THE NEWS, NOT THE WEATHER. MORE LIKE BACON FAT. TIME TO YELLOW SUBMARINE ALL OVER YOUR FACE? DOES THIS GAME GRADE MAKE NO SENSE? NEITHER DOES YOUNG SEYMOUR DEFENDING LIKE YI’S CHAIR, CROSSING OVER LIKE JAMAL CRAWFORD AND HITTING STEP-BACK JUMPERS ON HIS WAY TO THE PHILIPPINES PRACTICE FACILITY.
DON’T TELL ME THINGS GOTTA MAKE SENSE IN BLATCHELAND.
April 5th: Andray Blatche has spent 10,000 hours taking ballet with a matador.
Thanks for the ulcers, Andray Blatche. 82 more next year?