Elevator Doors: Balancing Space, Style, and Functionality

Well, here we are, folks, another NBA season in the rearview mirror! 82 games done and dusted — feels like a lifetime, doesn’t it? Now, it’s that crazy time of year when all the bickering about who deserves what begins. Trophies, accolades, bragging rights — all up for debate. Reminds me of Hollywood, you know, like the Oscars but with less red carpet, more sneakers. Awards in the NBA are like currency, affecting contracts and, let’s be real, a player’s worth in those intense locker room chats. Silly? Maybe. But, kinda vital in the bigger scheme, especially if you’re into the whole team strategy thing.

Now here’s where it gets spicy: picking who gets what. Defensive Player of the Year is a mess thanks to Victor Wembanyama’s injury scare. I feel like I’m shaking up players in a snow globe when thinking about the All-Rookie Team. And the MVP? A sprint between two superstars. Who doesn’t love a nail-biting finish?

But hold up, the juiciest debate, in my humble opinion, is that final slot on the All-NBA First Team. Yep, that last puzzle piece reveals what you value in basketball — and says heaps about you as a fan or analyst or whatever you are. It’s quite the conversation because, honestly, every argument is sharp if you know your stuff and can back it up.

For sure, the first four spots are locked in tighter than a Fort Knox vault: Jokic, Shai, Giannis, Tatum. Miss any of those on your ballot? Delete it. Let’s dive into that last spot, where the real magic, or debate chaos, happens. Writers will throw around stats like confetti, others will just go with the vibe.

In our little bubble called Elevator Doors HQ, we’re pondering it like a philosophical riddle. Basketball — is it more about space, showmanship, or good old sacrifice?

Space! The court is 4,700 square feet of strategy, chaos, and those sweet points through a 450-ish cubic inch ball aimed at an 18-inch hoop 10 feet up. Steph Curry made the game a geometry lesson, don’t you think? At 37, he’s mesmerizing. His shooting is a 40% wonder on 11.2 shots per game. But it’s his court dance — curls, screens, sprints — that petrifies defenders. It’s like his court presence creates dimensions players wouldn’t find otherwise.

Then there’s Jimmy Butler, popping in after an escape from the Heat like some seasoned pirate joining a legendary crew. Curry’s turned him into a Curry disciple, preaching the good word of strategic chaos. The Warriors went from lottery hopefuls to playoff terrors, all fighting to be the last pirate standing.

Critics, though, whisper, “If Curry’s so vital, why the mid-season trade card?” Good point, kind of. But when we talk showmanship, it’s Anthony Edwards we’re looking at, a true performer. Every bit of him screams Kobe, and not many can say that without a storm of criticism (though a few eyebrows do dart upward).

Many doubted his shooting pre-draft, yet he’s here leading in 3-pointers. More than Curry! His minutes are like a marathon, covering the court, draining buckets. Defense? Oh, he’s a menace. Call him the overall MVP for pure unadulterated basketball magic. But the critics, wagging fingers, ask, “Can he carry the team beyond his solo acts?”

Now, let’s talk about the sacrifice segment, spotlight on Donovan Mitchell. Scoring rank? Sixteenth. Efficiency? Not so stunning. But his team? Winning more than most. While stepping back a bit, giving others — like Garland and Mobley — the spotlight, the team flourishes (isn’t that a basketball fairy tale of sorts?).

Coach Atkinson orchestrated this like a maestro. Mitchell gave up being the lead solo for the harmonic success of the Cavs and popped Utah off the headlines. Yet some folks wonder, should being on a great team boost his All-NBA bid?

Where does this leave us? Curry’s pivotal, Edwards is the spellbinding talent, and Mitchell is the success story. But as a dad explaining hoops to my son, it’s about the team. Working together, sharing the wins and losses, that’s the essence. So it’s Mitchell. My choice. Our choice.