38-36 DOGFIGHT

Gift Card Arbitrage Opportunities

2008-12-03T13:49:00.004-05:00

New for the holiday season. I can see the Knicks using Stephon Marbury's forfeited dollars pretty wisely here...

Gift-card Arbitrage

What a Fool Believes, He Sees

2008-02-13T20:01:00.009-05:00

Kidd to the Mavs brings Devin Harris on board to caulk the leaks on the Nets long sinking ship. Oh, he came with like 9 bigs -- Nets are anticipating the scheduled injuries to Magloire, Boki and, (Rod Thorn sighs), Krstic this year. Larry Frank must have gotten the "Good planning makes elusive dreams come true" fortune cookie the other night. Let's hear it for Boy Geniuses!

Anyway, the idea of the total choir boy Harris being somehow corrupted by Marcus "Laptop" Williams amuses me.

I can see these two becoming fast friends. The body they push onto the highway together will be Vince Carter, after realizing he's playing alongside Stromile Swift at center for 35 minutes a game.

You can say it looks good but dude, you can hear the creaks!

Why Don't You Play the Game?

2008-01-29T16:19:00.000-05:00

What in the, I say...what in the??

Yosemite Sam, you are not the only one (or the only Sam) with your knickers in a bunch this week, trying to figure out how the Hornets are in first place in the West.

It really comes down to this: Chris Paul is the equivalent of this kid playing the solo on Daft Punk's "Digital Love"

He isn't the belle of the ball...

like a LeBron

or a Kobe

or even an Artest (please come to New York)

...but he's holding off Dirk like it's 1944

Actually BEING like a member of Daft Punk in my metaphor would be like being Dwane Wade, which, by the way, brings me to my next idea: I think I have a new logo for The Heat.

God Frowns On Spliffs

2008-01-24T12:23:00.000-05:00

Note: I don't use drugs or advocate using drugs. But the ridiculous question I was presented with this morning, as I checked my daily dose of nba NEWS for UPDATES is, 'Does the big guy with a beard up in the sky really frown on smokin A PLANT?'

"Get me some rizlas dog, them 2 inchers."

Does God even have an opinion on drug use??

Does anyone cares??!?

YES ACTUALLY! Apparently Tom Ziller of the aol fanhouse is not afraid to boldly blog where no man has blogged before. Here, he moralizes about recreational drug use among well-paid youths with infrequent deliberative cognition requirements! Or whatever it is marijuana likely impairs!

Please dear reader, do your best Earl Warren (King Solomon? Tom Ziller??) and chime in. Is marijuana usage a sin!? Says Udonis Haslem:

"Nah dog."

Next witness is the most-known-unknown 2006 Detroit Pistons. Could God ever be upset over this?!

I REST MY CASE!!

I Drop Unexpectedly

2008-01-01T03:53:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year, enjoy.

Scotty Beam Me Up I'm In the Zone

2007-12-14T19:53:00.000-05:00

GAME DAY!
According to KIA ESPN Gameday Shootaround's Fred Hickman, Emeka Okafor is "GEEKED UP" for this matchup against Dwight Howard.

Cash registers just rung in Fabo's ear.

Tiger!

Meanwhile Bill Walton was all "oh he's totally geeked up," whiter than you even thought possible, and then somehow locked onto a 10 minute (no joke) anecdote about this one mickey hart drum solo that seriously must have lasted a day and a half, so good. Actually I falls asleep whenever Walton starts talking so maybe it went different or whatever.

...and I could smell colors and...

Anyway, new slang, easy targets and trite observations aside, Dwight "Manhattan Island, Let Me Holds That" Howard is gonna get 15 blocks this game, those are colors I can smell. I (again) love this years Magic team, usually for the moments when Young Turk puts it on the floor. Career year or not, guy dribbles like a 5th grader...makes me wish Ariza was still around. Talk about geeked up.

Questions for the Madd Rapper

2007-11-22T07:45:00.000-05:00

Tyrus is like, I just don't understand, why you so mad. Like, what are you so mad about?

"You see, I never lived up to my father's expectations either. It's like a cycle or some shit. Anyway, I go on Thursdays now too... Good talk, now back out there."

Not sure, but if you ask me it sounds like a 21 year old kid, who is the most exciting player in basketball, thankfully and finally got the better of a guy whose personal issues are clearly preventing me from seeing more outrageous dunks. What on earth is Scott Skiles like to hang around with when he's not coaching? Dudes' ulcers probably have ulcers. I imagine in his weaker moments cousin getting mad at even these ulcerated stomach sores, for not giving him all he can take. Shouldn't the Bulls require a genetic test for Skiles like he did for Eddy Curry's poor perforated heart? Only this one should be to see whether he is an incurable dickhead. Actually, what the Bulls need to do is provide Skiles a hug, a patient friend, and a pink slip. If you ask me Thanksgiving would be a whole lot happier if the Bulls would fire Scott Skiles.

You Ain't Hard!!!

2007-06-20T21:39:00.000-04:00

Endless Fist brings wisdom in this mature rumination on violence. But my question is, where are the reports demanding more player fights at sporting events?? I am pretty sure the Ron Artest deal saved the career of many a "realistic" (read: lazy, racist) columnist by offering the opportunity of a full 2 years of passing narrow, decontextualized judgement on players they won't try to understand. Plus, every Knicks fan I know will say their favorite Knick ever is the fuckin Oak.

Sorry, it just wasn't your year, buddy

Seriously. Solve the mixed martial arts-boxing debate. You can't even argue with this. Like the only way the 2006 Suns-Lakers series could have been better is if every game got interrupted by letting some of those hilarious brawls that were developing get out of hand. You remember: Kwame Brown vs Boris Diaw (accused rapist Kwame straddles Boris...??), Kobe vs Raja Bell ("I can feel my face!!"), Tim Thomas vs. an expiring contract... Anyway, it seems like a can't-miss. This blog does not forget its roots.

Just for fun, highlights of that sick Lakers Suns series here. (Sadly, not included is the Kobe "MVP" dunk on Nash)

P.S. choosy fans choose unexpected NBA fights. How could you NOT love this game?

We Gon' Eat This Year

2007-05-24T14:11:00.000-04:00

ahaha

FREE TYRUS

2007-05-16T00:17:00.000-04:00

Watch me crank dat roosevelt!!!

What's up Scott Skiles? Do you hate cheering from the crowd? Do you really think the only way to demoralize opponents is to put Michael Sweetney out on the floor? These questions are rhetorical. Look, I have an idea to really crank up excitement for the Bulls. This idea is called Let Tyrus Thomas Alley Oop. It is largely self explanatory. An alley oop is a play in which a high, arching pass is made to a teammate close to the basket, who leaps to catch the ball and in midair drops or stuffs it through the basket. Run this play for Tyrus Thomas. He is always close to the basket. Even if he is standing at the 3-point line. I hope the physics of such a situation do not need further explanation. What is up, Scott Skiles, is in fact Tyrus Thomas!!

Look, I'll level for a minute. I've got tickets to the next playoff game. I have a deep seated desire to be comically hoarse the next day. So, not to sound threatening, but if Tyrus doesn't throw down at least 50 points on 25 alley oops, I might be getting on some old high school shit up in section 339 row 15 of the United Center. Be punching people in they face just for living. Actually if he throws down 50 I'll do the same thing. Get buck! And Tyrus: get them back for Katrina!

I am ready for this historic moment.

Color Changing Click

2007-02-07T15:11:00.000-05:00

Karl Rove and the NBA.

The Fuck Is You High?

2007-02-03T14:05:00.000-05:00

Finally catching up with the Wire Season One after plowing through the other 3 seasons first illustrates why this show isn't more popular. Despite its great acclaim, the first season is significantly less sophisticated and dense than subsequent ones. It's poorly written (each scene is guaranteed to have at least one remedial, 15-line expository monologue--watch it again), distractingly theatrical in its dialog and blocking (and in this way not unlike its nearly unwatchable precursor, The Corner, HBO's 6 episode miniseries about addicts starring Charles S. Dutton). The whole thing feels like a 21st century Theodore Dreiser, which would be cool but, like that moment passed a hundred years ago dude.

On the otherhand, I'm still pitching underhand: Season 4 makes such gigantic leaps that it's not hard to doubt that a hundred years from now, letters will be making use of its brilliant revision of the bildungsroman. Grinding, deflating, yet completely emotionally fulfilling.

This is NBA related. Yes, ladies and gents, because that description doubles as my take on your 2006-2007 Orlando Magic:

p.s. shaq is still bullshit.

So Obnoxious

2007-01-15T16:11:00.000-05:00

So all over the internet you may have heard about Cam'ron. Pitchfork loves him and claim that he is a aughts surrealist genius whereas most hip hop bloggers won't give him the time of day unless they're talking about something latent that Cam has yet to reveal.

But describing Cam as a"outsider" genius or rap's closeted clown prince means he often doesn't receive any serious attention. Look close: what Cam spits unravels the mind. His rhymes blend surrealist metaphors and dense allusion with self-consciously humorous braggadacio and sophisticated storytelling. But the most fascinating aspects are those that seem not-that-smart. Cam is often purposefully ambiguous or contradictory, mystifying critics and impugning his straightforward radio songs. But this is really what separates Cam from similarly derided yet underrated rappers like Young Dro. Check "Wet Wipes," from Killa Season, where Mr. Giles takes us through what has to be a typical night out for him, bracketed by his coquetry with a portly young lady that Cam wants to fuck in unknowable ways--but which, due to Cam's impatience, literally require a decidedly unsexy aid.

--

We begin:
Them niggaz pumpin dimes, trunk pumpin mine
I really make cake, you could call me Duncan Hines

Cam introduces himself to the listener. Either he, or people he is acquainted with, sell drugs in small amounts, and listen to Cam'ron records in their cars. Though confusing, and almost completely unconnected to the following bars, this information serves a purpose. Cam'ron needs the audience to recognize that he's quite rich in order to make the subsequent narrative events more plausible. (Whether you buy it or not is your choice. Cam has appeared in photographs with a Bugatti and a Maybach, but he also complains earlier on Killa Season of leaving his last label because they didn't pay promised royalties. Of course, the claim of his wealth stems from his supposed involvement in the game, but with the amount of material Cam and the Dips put out, is it even plausible that they do anything BUT live in the studio? Be real. Also, I think Rick Ross is legit.)

Had a drunken mind, club wobbled out
Next stop, start trouble inside the waffle house
Mmm, click the nine, yup skip the line
Looked at home boy yo, your bitch is mine

The story begins: Drunk leaving the club, Cam and his crew decide to continue the night with antics inside a Waffle House. Details sell the story right? So Cam'ron takes out his gun so he can expeditiously move the front of the line (already, you're like, "what?"), sees a woman he finds attractive, and intervenes.

Had a little knife, tried to flick his shine
Had a big gat, click clack, hit recline
Don't ever complain, over no dumb dame
See you big money, I'll turn 'em to chump change
Let my muscles show, cause I'm like Russell Crowe
Beautiful mind, took his bitch, hustle hoe
That was her boo, yes sir true
But I collect the chicken, call me Purdue
His ex wife, a new sex life
But ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-check it, go get ya wet wipes

More ambiguity. Cam's rival lunges at him with a knife, trying to take his jewelry. Luckily, Cam'ron carried a large firearm and apparently shoots his adversary, then mocks him for his chivalry. Perhaps Cam'ron finds such behavior outdated. Giles is a New Man, whose wealth is so tremendous it embarrasses the merely affluent. Further, his physique presents a perfect comparison to his riches as well as his intellect.

"Russell Crowe" here works overtime to signify both of these qualities succinctly. Deftly, Cam'ron draws a reference to Crowe's character John Nash as well as Crowe's imposing physical presence and all at once we know why life with Mr. Giles might be so appealing to the opposite sex. He promises to fill up his woman's world, in every sense of the phrase. While the listener reels from the density of this metaphor, Cam'ron seizes the occasion to play more tricks with language, and slyly sets up a punchline in the verse's final line that won't be revealed until the last moments of the narrative.

Go get ya wet wipes, go get ya wet wipes
Go get ya wet wipes, go get ya wet wipes
I see your head lights, they lookin dead nice
They got me sayin
D-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-damn

Then the chorus, which is at this point confusing in every regard except its misogyny.

They all comical, Killa Killa phenomenal
Honored the honesty mommy isla villa I promise you

Cam is a man of his word.

I come once a year, I'm like the carnival
They all talk about me, call him Donahue
It's the Dom in you, nope it's the Cris in me
The '06 Ricky D, less glitter b
Yes Sicily wristery [?], don't mean shit to me
Get with me physically, mentally, literally

The catch is, he's never around, which bizarrely, only increases his appeal. Just like Slick Rick, who disappeared frequently from the rap game to do time on an attempted murder charge, Cam's appeal is enhanced by his mystique. He's drunk, he doesn't care about your Italian leather bracelet; he just wants every part of you. The "literally" here is multitracked for emphasis, even though such an effect both draws your attention and making the comment seem redundant, unncessary, and thus a non-sequitur, decreasing its potential impact. Cam'ron toys with our expectations as an audience, and isn't afraid to contradict them, even if doing so forces a sacrifice of his narrative authority. But even recognizing Cam's ability to shatter his own diegesis with some hysterical narrative cannot prepare the listener for what follows.

My henchmen, they lynch men
They apply the appliances the wrench-men
That's sense ten, I've been attendin
Plaintiff, defendant, sentence, independence
But it was said right, I was dead nice
And I'm dead wrong, but you'll die dead right
This red ice, chicken wings red rice
But baby girl, go get ya wet wipes

... I have no idea. Cam spews fragments of information apparently to convince his target of his already apparent qualities: his lawlessness and material affluence. He brags that his friends are murderers, continuing by threatening the life of his new companion if she refuses him despite his generosity and charm. As far as sense ten, does Cam'ron claim possession of either 5 additional physical senses? Or suggest that his words can have nine plus one meanings? Either way, it's back to the hook for a recharge.

[Hook]

Y'all niggaz know the deal, pop the golden seal
Candy apple rain drops, Soul For Real
No singer b, sling Heavy D
Ready rock, killa cop, steady b
Stay steady please, say I bet he squeeze
I ain't on it tonight, I need head for sheez

An effective if elusive Casanova, Cam drops a smooth, if incorrect allusion to an 80s hit, then draws attention to this mistake, at the same time clarifying it by naming the artist responsible. He cares not for sloppiness. He's a drug-dealer, not a pop singer. Blow him.

I don't care if you're Japanese, Lebanese
Chinese, Siamese, just be from the seven seas

I was wrappin a L, I got trapped in a smell
Perfume, bag, hat, all matchin Chanel
Ohh you a baller boo, how tall are you
5'6" 150, I need all of you
She had a candy chocha, como te llamo Rosa
Lets meet her family, let me hit, Sammy Sosa
I know you first class, I'm a jet flight
No take off, first get ya wet wipes

She has expensive tastes. A good pairing, then. Cam deals with his partner's apparent racial ambiguity by telling her in spanish that he'll call her Rose and promising to introduce himself to her family. That settles that; now on to business. But wait! Cam'ron has a surprise. Though ostensibly a good lover, Cam not interested in reciprocating any of the pleasure he demands. In fact, he won't even do much to excite his lover--artificial means are in order. The joke, in this case is on the girl, but it's for the listener too--Cam has now spent several minutes apparently illustrating his virility, but when it comes down to it, there's no way anyone but he could be satisfied by his performance. The irony of his conquest's "new sex life" reveals itself fully by now, and Cam's hypersexuality indeed seems confusing, even (indeed) overcompensatory. Cam's superficial qualities emerge as his only qualities. That's the joke, anyway, and because Cam freely makes himself the butt of it, the venture doubles back to avoid any loss. In the end, it's actually Cam's willingness to showcase his insensitivity and arrogance to such an extremity that it becomes unbelievable, allowing his undeniable and redeeming charisma to be exposed.

Its Familiar

2006-11-04T11:59:00.000-05:00

So the NBA is back.

We here at Dogfight are looking forward to highlighting the afterlife of a "just past" NBA era; what's happening to those thuggish, defense-oriented, ball-hogging, pre- or simply non- Lebron/dwade/amare stars with the huge, untradeable contracts that nouveau-NBA fans and talk-radio hosts are going to tell you are arrogant, overrated, overpaid, "not exciting," and should be traded? We got it here 4 cheap, so keep watching.

Besides the former stars, we are also excited about some young, unpolished, or simply hated teams: the Magic, the Bulls, the Knicks, the Lakers.

Oh and this guy:

Mr. Get Familiar Himself

But first, did you know that vacationers from Michigan were 275% more likely to drive to Florida than to fly in 1976?

We'll be back on this shit like flies on shut your mouth.

Lemme call you back

Patron Saints

2006-08-21T19:26:00.002-04:00

Recently, a bunch of kids asked Artest about the brawl at the Palace. He said, "Someone started something and I finished it." These were 8 year olds. Let me just take this moment to confirm that I love Ron Artest. By the way, this is the definition of folk hero.

only in the nhl

2006-07-18T20:50:00.000-04:00

seriously, would this happen in any other sport?

I wish it were this guy appointed to the new GM position instead of Garth Snow

I'm talking about Gorton up there.

Meanwhile, in the NBA, the Sonics were sold to an Oklahoma City investment group. YAYSport's funny post sort of misses the true impact of this decision... Oklahoma City could be only the second city to become home to TWO NBA franchises. Think of the rivaly possibilities. The panhandle series. Channeling Darryl Dawkins, Rashard Lewis will begin naming his dunks, starting with "The Thresher," and then begin practicing interplanetary funkmanship, not only because somebody in the NBA should be doing that at all times, but also, it would be real freedarko of him to transform his on-court style into some crop circles, metaphorically demonstrating his cyclonic wind action. He will have many chances to do this, as there are many fields in Oklahoma. Actually, the arena could be nicknamed too, something catchy like, "Fields of Screams/Dreams/Teams". Any of those are appropriate because the emphasis in this case would be on "fields." In case you forgot, here's the Hornet's current stadium:

I am saying the place is RURAL!

Well, at the very least, Saer Sene might find the topography familiar, easing his transition from 7'6" skill-less foreigner/"project" to his telos as another typical 7'6" NBA stiff that someone will inevitably and yet somehow also spectacularly, dunk over. I think that's freedarko too. Anyway, I hope one team gets renamed the "Okies" and the other something clever and unexpected like...the "Dusted Bowlers". Maybe the "Bombers." Oof, did I cross a line? OK, I'm out.

Zidane is GULLY!!!

2006-07-09T16:36:00.000-04:00

Haha no shit, that's the way to fucking END YOUR ENTIRE CAREER. The best part about it is that it was totally ruthless. Zidane looked like he did it when nobody would see what he was doing (in front of 200,000 people--1 billion if you both count tv and believe tv) so he could act like it didn't happen if the ref didn't directly see it. Soccer has some ridiculous rules.

"You cannot be serious!"

So, basically, what I learned today about soccer, or Euro's, or whichever is more precise, is: do not talk shit on Zidane. He will pop ya top like champagne bottles that chill!! We gon' clap those things, dunny!!

I WILL touch you

Seriously, what on earth could dude have said? That must have been some INTERDIMENSIONAL-CLASS shit talking by Marco Materazzi. He must have been like, "Yo, best player on the other team: ÜøπÍÎÎÏ´ ˘¿◊Ç¯˘Õﬁ‰ÎÏ, Ò˜¶§¢¢Ä–≠« §n¶›◊◊ π¬iû¥∏Øer! If you think I'm wrong, headbutt me, and I swear I'll take it back."

In other words, he came at him with some Sam Cassell shit.

This whole affair adds another dimension to Bill Simmon's musings about which NBA player would make good soccer players. I think. I mean, I hope.

We Use Words Like Upski

2006-07-04T10:49:00.000-04:00

I was worried that the last blog I wrote may have suggested some casual racism with the ben wallace/mike tyson/black-man-beast-rapist connection. Unrelatedly, as I was talking to famous rapper from Tokyo Mike Joyce this morning, he brought up Upski while we were discussing the popularity of petty larceny in graffiti culture. I poked around and I found an old, but berry interesting article Upski wrote on race, whiteness and hip hop authenticity from the Source. While articles like this usually resort to bankrupt conceptions of race and culture that telegraph a different sort of casual racism, and even more frequently, rather stiffly drawn color lines, I appreciated Upski's playfulness, although not his heavy-handed and rather accusatory final paragraph. But, for whatever reason, this snippet struck me:

When Holly Poopster (whatever her name is. Somethin' like that) from the Chicago suburb of Evanston attended her first hip-hop party a year ago, she and her friend told me that they didn't feel accepted at the party because they were white. "We come from a very, very integrated community," she told me (Evanston is seventy-one percent white), as if to say, "It's not our fault they don't like us."

It has been a big year for Polly Shmooster! But don't call her Golly anymore. Her name is "Sista PA," and though she can't quite dance yet, she has befriended a bunch of dredlock b-boys, and feels welcome at parties. She writes passionately about breakdancing and stopping violence for Dry-Paper, a Chicago rap publication.

The Sista even uses words like "phunkyphatphresh" and plays black-than-thou with another white writer, me, saying that I'm not hardcore. (Thought I'd return the favor, Hopsy. Next time you play that shit we're gonna battle.) Topsy has learned what all of us know, that most blacks will accept anyone who makes the slightest effort not to be a typical white asshole - or maybe Popsy's still back in the "I must be special" stage.

Was this about Jessica Hopper?! If it wasn't, to me it sure seems like it, but the connection is sort of absurd. I don't know Jessica, haven't read much of her writing, but I was aware of her role in the recent Slate controversy about whiteness and rap fandom. Perhaps the connection I made hinged too much on the negative reputation internet message board posters foist upon her, but I couldn't imagine her not writing something like "phunkyphatphresh" if she did her current zine in 1993. But anyways, was Upski trying to imply that the embrace "Holly Poopster" made of black culture was exploitative? That she herself was being casually racist?

If you hate me and my writing so much why do you read my blog?

There are obviously boundaries, and, as a white middle-class male, I of course stand to benefit most from the continuation of white male patriarchal society (justifiably, a fact whose resonance might overpower what I have to say; empowered by the blogsphere, i continue), but I've thought about this sort of thing for a while. I still wonder if its the most worthwhile or least worthwhile thing to police the usuage of cultural artifacts with concerns about casual racism. A lot of this confusion on my part stems from an uncertainty over which is more "racist": a concern that usage of "black" cultural tropes by middle-class whites is "degrading" (in the words of Sabrina Williams, quoted in Upski's article) to black culture, because it violates what is essential to "blackness," the idea that their culture is born and enacted from suffering that whites would largely be unaware. This idea of hinges, rather questionably in my opinion, on conceiving of black culture as somewhat monolithic and everlasting. But on the other hand, playing with these (or any) cultural forms casually, as some are apt to do, is problematic because all of these types of play are open to interpretation since they don't make a simple or direct statement that can be addressed, contradicted or supported. In the hands of a bad historian, for instance, or cultural pundits in general, whatever ambiguity that is there can easily be lost, especially from a broad perspective. But is that what matters? The broad trans-historical perspective, or the day-to-day pleasure you can find in the things you consume?

One will transform the other.

Call it Operation: Lockdown

2006-07-03T21:43:00.000-04:00

Ben Wallace signing with the Bulls just about makes my year. Ben to the Bulls pretty much defines that team as the apotheosis of this blog... and I am just getting it off the ground. You're so psyched, I know. Lucky for all that I'm a Chicago fan, living in Chicago (just not right now). The only possible thing better than this for this blog would be if the 93 Knicks got back together. And challenged this team of defensive supermen in the Eastern conference finals. Or perhaps if Anthony Mason started playing again, anywhere.

We hate the law so we break it

I don't know what the NBA record for team shot blocks per game is, but this season I'm guessing the Bulls' average will hover around 200. On the other hand, with Ben Wallace and Tyson Chandler as their starting frontline, can the Bulls muster enough offense to score more than 45 points a game?

Don't throw it to Stone Hands!

I'm saying dudes are bricklayers. Nevertheless, I feel this fact is largely irrelevant. Will scoring actually matter with this team? Perhaps John Paxson is asking us to reconsider the most basic of basketball conventional wisdoms. Now that they have Big Ben, it seems obvious that the Bulls must trade their only real gunner, the overhyped, undersized Ben "Jordan"/"Christ, WTF?!!" Gordon. Straight up for Reggie Evans or Bruce Bowen or something. Then move Noce up to PF while Ty2 gets ready. Fuck it, start Noce at 2; it doesn't matter! The Bulls are prepared to rip out their opponents stomachs and hearts. And eat their children. Nightly, dog. In Pax we trust!

Anyway, Ladies and Gentlemen, we give you your 2006-2007 Chicago Bulls:

My style is impetuous. My defense is impregnable, and I'm just ferocious

81 seconds. Selofosha!

ps. fuck Shaq

Other bloggers won the title by default

2006-07-03T12:39:00.003-04:00

Ahem,

Casualties of a Dice Game

2006-06-21T09:14:00.001-04:00

I guess my predictions were off! Would the Mavs have stood a chance if they didn't bench Marquis Daniels for no good reason? freedarko debates Wade vs. Daniels on who owned game 6.

I think Daniels wasn't even playing out of his mind...

E&J Got My Mind Flippin

2006-06-20T20:55:00.000-04:00

Game 6 is minutes from starting. Fuck shaq and all that, but there is a serious media retcon going on with this finals. While the buildup to the finals in television playoff coverage and the major sports websites alike* focused on how Shaq was to be stopped when he decided to show up. But after a couple of 45-17 games (33 FTs), suddenly the Heat are and always have been "Wade's Team"; dwade is the "next jordan," Shaq is laughed at for missing foul shots and is getting pulled out of the game in crucial minutes, presumably because he does more harm than good.

Shoot, Pass, Slam Requiem

Well, I call bullshit. The man has his flaws, and is at the end of his career, isn't quite the player you'll find on youtube highlights of his career (save for against my boy Bynum!) but I think the mavs are 1) still strategizing mainly against shaq, just like any other nba team in the finals would be and 2) because of this clouded strategizing over the fact that Shaq's dick blocks out the sun, weren't prepared for dwyane's carpe deism, and that's why they are 1) ably containing shaq, making him look like a "glorified role player" allowing all the pundits and blogs suggest he's "warshed up," and 2) getting destroyed by wade's slash-and-destroy mission. Wade's gonna come back to earth, and he'll do it soon. I maintain that the storyline still should be about the Mav's defensive job on Shaq.

Mythmaking as NBA history

Do I think Wade is incredible? Yes. Is he the next Jordan? No. The Heat still win and lose on Shaq's presence. He's just found the right role player to catch fire. I watched every game of the Chicago series and Wade is as streaky as they come; right now, he's on at the right time. The Mavs are STILL double- and even triple-teaming shaq on every possession. They have to. And it's this nagging sense in the back of every Maverick defender's head, "wait... is Shaq open?" that gives Wade tons of space to create. Which he's been great at.

When a fool try to play me, wet 'em up, then I'm Swayze

Because of Wade's recent hotstreak, it has become tiresome to read about these Finals. Everyone's so eager to annoint (or tear down) the next super-superstar/face of the NBA/GOAT because it makes for good copy, the commentators I read are allowing themselves to get swept up in reaction to perhaps the most hackeneyed storyline in basketball yet again. There are some good stories and reactions to these finals out there though. Like most of the blogosphere, Bill Simmons has found a home in his own mythology, but he is still a perceptive basketball watcher.

It's not a perfect column, but the best I've read on the finals so far. FreeDarko could have predicted his Finals-anxiety over the imminent death of the "team ball-right way" resurgence six months ago, in their sleep, on the off-mention that Wade would be playing. Simmon's recapitulation of the second most hackeneyed story in the NBA is not why I like this column. Basically, I think he's right about Marquis Daniels, and I think Avery Johnson knows it. The reason the Mavs are down in the series is because Wade's hit his stride at the right time, and Udonis Haslem (--I see you Evan; Udonis is incredibly underrated, and should be heralded as a less-crazy Ron Artest or a more-likeable Bruce Bowen, not to mention a perennial Defensive Player of the Year candidate. After this series, consider him a lock for the award next year) is seriously frustrating Dirk whenever he gets near the top of the key. Dirk can't create, Wade's on fire, and that's why the Heat are up. But Wade is not the next Jordan and never will be playing alongside Shaq. And Shaq is still bullshit, and that's why I still like the Mavs in 7.

Now that I'm done writing this, the game started and the Mavs are up 26-12! One!

Shaq is bullshit

2006-06-03T11:55:00.000-04:00

Back like Kirk Krack