Back again, stingy as ever. Biting at the hind-quarters of all my non-supporters. Today we flump out the most flumpiest guy projected to go in the lottery. The charismatic, kind, comedic-basketball genius, Frank "The Tank" Kaminsky.
Frank led the Wisconsin Badgers to a 36-4 record in his senior season. He averaged 19 points and 8 rebounds, to go along with your typical do-it-all statistical charcuterie. Along the way the Badgers made it to the NCAA Championship game and Kaminsky was named Consensus Player of the Year. Frank's biggest asset was his ability to stretch the floor from the center spot. He will probably transition to a floor spacing, basket facing four-man in the pros.
The Tank is one of the oldest players available in the draft and an Aries, certain to want great things and work hard for them. Frank's father is also named "Frank". Couple of Frances Stanley Kaminskys to be precise. Fran Stan, not to be confused with Stan Van. Of course, you wouldn't want to confuse him with Stanley Kowalski either, because that would be really, quite confusing. So don't do that. But, uh... where were we? Ah yes, what's his face Kaczynski! Wait that's the Unabomber. You know what I'm thinking actually? "The Tank" is really not a fitting nickname for this slight of build, nonaggressive slinky flumper. His name, just in general, might not work.
Now, "Kaminsky", as we know, was Mel Brooks' birth name. Melvin Kaminsky. However after being confused with a similarly-surnamed trumpeter (Max), he decided to use "Brooks" as a stage name. His mother's maiden name was "Brookman", and Mel just decided to shorten it. A sort of naming circumcision. This is important stuff, and I'll tell you why.
If the Knicks were to select Frank Kaminsky his name will very clearly be confused with another former Knick draft pick, New York's own, Frank Brickowski (57th overall in 1981). Kaminsky (the potential draftee) should thusly undergo a name change. Today, with personal brands being so important, it is a necessity.
He should model this rebrand after his mother, former Northwestern Volleyball Wildcat, Mary (Stack) Kaminsky. Since this is a circumcision of sorts, the idea is not to be perceived as attempting to emasculate the young man. We shouldn't call him Mary Kaminsky, but slightly alter it to Mohel Kaminsky. These days, you want to instill fear. So beware of Mohel, he's gonna chop the excess off your second neck down low. Or as Clyde might say, "Giving them Mo' Hell than they can handle. A circus shot from the Circumciser! Dramatic, acrobatic. Kaminsky with the sweet stuff."
I guess by now we should get into what exactly the sweet stuff is.
With the NBA less than a month away, Here's a look at Frank Kaminsky's meteoric rise to stardom at Wisconsin. pic.twitter.com/tRDkZPSxnN— Synergy Sports Tech (@SynergySST) May 30, 2015
@neiltyson Meteors create streaks in skies. From the ground, meteors often look like they're leaving Earth. "Makes no sense" bit of an exag.— Bill Nye (@BillNye) April 15, 2015
So there ya have it. Kaminsky's rise to fame as a result of atmospheric pressure is neither logical nor surprising given the opportunity to be a fading star, vis a vis possessions (meteors). He doesn't have to die some screaming molten death as he plummets into the NBA abyss, thankfully. If he patterns his pro-game after guys like Ryan Anderson and Channing Frye, he'll figure it out. Frank is lighter on his feet and a little more crafty passing the ball (in particular off the bounce) than those guys, and a little more mindful of his footwork in pick and roll coverage, but whatever, the point remains.
He lacks the bulk (230 pounds) to wall off a low post threat, or be a threat himself against slow-footed yet heavier handed big fellers. With time you'd hope be can be able to add something to that lanky frame. It becomes especially worrisome when you consider your standard NBA big, though. How is he going to deal with the Carl Landrys of the world, much less the Blake Griffins? He'll never add the explosiveness or length (7' tall with a 6'11" wingspan) to be a modern day athletic rim protector. His hope for survival lies strictly in his ability to help pull defenses apart and capitalize on switches. Thinking like Mike Scott or Pero Antic, but consistently hitting those shots.
It's not all flumpy foreskins for Franky. One thing he can work on and get good at is off-ball screening. According to Kevin O'Connor at Vantage Sports, Kaminsky struggled there in college. That's footwork and timing -- things that won't come easy at first, but can be drilled and shored up every day for the rest of his career. He's already got the jump shooting ability to spring some cagey guards free to frolic in the paint. Last year he had a .628 true shooting percentage, making 41% of his three-pointers and 70% at the rim. It appears he knows what works and what needs work because he's working on strength and range.
Franky really does have a lot of nuance to his game and often busts out these unexpectedly bouncy tricks. Let's watch video of some real home run plays with music indigenous to the Wisconsin region blaring over the top.
Obviously that reel neglected to show him getting lazily beaten by a teenager on the block, but that's understandable. The tall guy was by no stretch a slouch this year though, finishing first or near the top in practically every statistical category (advanced or otherwise) in the Big 10. He was also the nation's overall leader in PER (34.4) and Win Shares (9.8). Healthy chunks above everyone else.
After a limited freshman and sophomore season, Frankenstein busted things wide open as a junior and pinned down some bonus efficiency as a senior. Much like his college career, it could just be a matter of time before Kaminsky finds a way to make his mark. In the meantime, he should just take it easy and prepare for the future. Changing his name and not coming to New York could do wonders for this gentle giant. What's your prognosis, doctors?