I have reached my wit’s end with trying to understand the Drunken Seal, Glen Davis. Is he a superior role player? The Sixth Man of the Year? Is he simply the ultimate shamrock, a nexus of all the Celtics’ good fortune manifested in a being who should never, ever be able to hit that reverse, yet who does it time and time again? Is he the most nimble fat guy in the league? Is he the luckiest sumbitch in the Association?
What is he?!
At this point Davis is like some sort of remainder that keeps coming up when I try and do long division with the elements of the league. I can understand why Boston and L.A. will always be powers and the teams in between them geographically which are not Chicago or in Texas are simply pogs getting swapped. I can understand why playoff basketball wins every time, despite its core foundation essentially being a resolution to foul continuously and trust the officials to allow it under the pretense of “good hard playoff basketball.” I can even understand that J.R. Smith has his role in this bizarre manifestation of sport.
But Davis? Davis is like the spleen of the NBA. You feel like you could remove it, but if you try and just yank it out, you’ll bleed to death and that’s no fun. He’s very literally a huge key to the Celtics’ championship run this season. That midrange jumper that never drops back-to-bottom but always rattles down like a pinball. The leaning reverse that results in him falling down approximately 3 out of 5 attempts, yet him hitting it 4 out of 5. The charges drawn despite the sheer impossibility of an object with that mass stopping on a dime in front of another object in high velocity’s path. It all makes zero sense when you try and break it down, but in reality, it’s not to be understood. It just is.
I watched a fairly terrible movie called “The Time Traveler’s Wife” with Paroxi-Wife this weekend, and while the plot, characters, and physics were of course totally ridiculous (it’s a chick flick film about time travel for God’s sake, don’t watch it if you don’t expect it to be silly), the fact that so many people had issues with the seemingly nonsensical chronology baffled me. You can’t try and find a beginning and end to the plot. It simply exists. Moment by moment, individually resultant in its own perplexing reality. It’s not because of anything, not dependent upon probabilities or decision making. The plot line simply occurs. The scenes just “are.”
And that’s a lot like Glen Davis, the Drunken Seal.
(Side note: Eric Bana actually had to grow his hair back out after “Star Trek” to do re-shoots on “The Time Traveler’s Wife.” Which means that he had to endure an interval in between producing films which central premise involves time travel. It’s like the creative version of being stuck between time,similar to Hell in “Bill and Ted’s Bogus Adventure.” Well, not really, but I thought it was notable.)
Davis isn’t meant to be understood. He’s like the combination of two separate role players, complete with their heroics and nonsense, exaggerated and contorted, of course. He just is. But at this point it’s time to stop wondering when he’s going to fail. He’s not going to. He’s a legit NBA player, and a good one at that.
But Good God, he’s such a Drunken Seal.