Like a patent chronometer

Once again, I've found myself reading Moby-Dick (a book not a few friends have been subjected to a drunken rant or two of mine). I love it's wildly disparate tone. One chapter (The Advocate) will be written in the most frantic, well, advocation of Ishmael's profession. The next (The Postscript) a patently ridiculous insistence on the greatness of whaling. These are followed by the first Knights and Squires chapter, a serious, though rather melodramatic, view on human principle, courage and work ethic. Great novels, at least of this period (though certainly many modern and contemporary ones can be included), tend to maintain a certain mood, a methodical rendering of the prose to keep an "even keel" (I won't inundate this blog with nautical terms, I promise). Melville's masterpiece, however, deliberately juxtaposes styles, almost developing the collage novel. KJV Bible and Shakespearean techniques and vocabularies are butted against sailorspeak, vernacular, yellow journalism, Presbyterian ethics, and American exceptionalism among other styles. It is over-written, over-wrought, proclamatory and a touch naive. That's why it's so wonderful.

That said, I was wondering how I could incorporate two of my favorite things into one blog entry. Basketball is my favorite sport (really, the only sport I truly love). I will watch the Super Bowl this week, but more as an excuse to hang out with friends, get drunk on Sunday morning, and eat awesomely bad food. So, it hit me about ten minutes ago to find analogues in the NBA with characters in the novel. I haven't given it much thought, so I may amend my choices at a later date. (I'm also about a quarter way through the book.) Are these perfect examples? No, but really, is that possible? So, here begins the list.

Starbuck: Brandon Roy "Uncommonly conscientious" and with a "ruggedness of nature" both Starbuck and Brandon have the internal, analytic skills to see situations in intelligent ways. Though Roy is first mate to no one, he facilitates on-court like few others. Would he entertain thoughts of mutiny if placed under the leadership of an Ahab? Perhaps not. Both dominate quietly and command respect with sheer ability. They are the guys who you want in crunch time to get done what needs to be. Bonus: Roy is a Washington native, Washington being home to that ubiquitous coffee chain named after Melville's creation. 

Stubb: Shaq Who else can philosophize so jovially? And now that he's back in championship contention, he really does seem like a second-mate (which is not at all an insult). His success seems to depend on teams that afford him great leaders: Penny Hardaway, Kobe, D-Wade and now LeBron; yet still maintaining a position of authoritative dominance and oversight. They preside over their whaleboat/team "as if the most deadly encounter were but a dinner, and the crew his invited guests." 

Flask: Rasheed Wallace In this case refs become the whales in this metaphor. "[...] very pugnacious concerning whales, who somehow seemed to think that the great Leviathans had personally and hereditarily affronted him; and therefore it was a point of personal honor with him, to destroy them whenever encountered." Refs love to t-up 'Sheed, but, as Free Darko pointed out last year, his stats go up after his first technical.   

Queequeg: ? Based on tattoos, this could be tied between Birdman and K-Mart. Or, for affable, efficient, stylish foreigner, Dirk Nowitzki, Rudy Fernandez, Nicolas Batum or Pau Gasol. Also, this could be a seemingly offensive categorization. 

Pip: Courtney Lee I feel bad for Lee. Essentially left out to see when traded to the Nets after a great post-season for the Eastern Conference champions. Hopefully next year he gets traded back to a contender. 

Ishmael: ? Ron Artest  Ron-Ron's a bit of an orphan (from one team to the next), a bit of a nut, rather perplexing but skilled enough to command (or demand) attention. 

Ahab: Kobe Bryant Now who didn't see this coming? Both are monomaniacal, fierce individuals demanding those below them absolute commitment. If one makes the analogy that Moby-Dick is a championship, then Kobe's killed that whale four times. But that seems rather unlikely. No, his whale is bigger than the rings he has: it's the rings he won't have that drive him to an almost insane level of play. And that's not simply losing to the Celtics. No, his is a will to set bigger and bigger goals before him, goals that may, eventually, be his downfall unless he takes a cue from Jordan and retire on top (and to dismiss that other cue from Jordan and come back a third time).