Straight Up: You Had to Be a Man to Play in Last Night’s Game

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by: Chris Kattan

No little boys allowed. NOT UP IN HERE! Hit ‘Em

1.) Can We Acknowledge That Rajon Rondo Has 10 Career Playoff Triple Doubles?

For all you discontented Bostonians who have no idea what they are talking about: Shut it….Oh, and Magic Johnson has 30…Good God.

2.) In A Game of Unsung Heroes, Birdman Reigned Supreme

First, shout out to Crazy Eyes Hansbrough. If Frank Vogel knows what’s good, he’ll finagle at least 18 to 20 minutes a contest for Tyler from here on out. Much like West and Hibbert, he’s one of Vogel’s rotational guys who pose one of many clear advantages for Indiana as Miami may very well have difficulty matching his energy and muscle (that’s right Udonis, suck it). X-Factor indeed. Not to mention the guy is chomping at the bit to shake Dwayne up with an unnecessary follow through

The Nuggets pull the amnesty card without proper background check (its called blackmail from a psychotic bitch, bro’s), the child pornography allegations fizzle, Pat Riley signs Andersen to what I would say is the best under the radar midseason acquisition in NBA history (PJ Brown’s looms in such discussion), Miami goes 39 and 4 (47 and 4 if you include the post season prior to last night), and Birdman proves as arguably the second most valuable player in Game 1 of the Eastern Conference Finals…Wow…While you knew Andersen had the potential to do what Joel Anthony never could and turn Miami’s second units into legitimate starting line ups, you, nonetheless, maintained the thought of his being nothing more than a security blanket. Well, those assumptions proved entirely inaccurate as Birdman has essentially become what Brian Williams aka Bison “I Disappeared in the South Pacific” Dele meant to the 1996-1997 Bulls. Their box scores and skill set may fail in comparison, but the impact remains the same. Just two big fellers who’s capacity to add a dimension of high motor and efficiency allows their teams to seamlessly transition into an echelon of unprecedented greatness. Many might scoff at his 16 points on a perfect 7 for 7 from the field (FYI: the last to go at least 6 for 6 from the floor in a Heat playoff game was Alonzo “Can I Hit It in the” Mourning) and say to themselves, “Pshh…good luck finding that type of production again.” Yet, the career post season high was far from a product of playing out of one’s mind. Rather, it was a product of executing the achilles heel of the Pacers: brilliantly ferocious, well timed weakside rebounding/defensive help and an ability to finish with above the rim power off of dump downs. Add such characteristic to his having a far better second jump than Udonis Haslem and Andersen will continue to be a thorn in Indiana’s trademark collapsing defense know to give penetration fits. In other words, last night was no fluke.

3.) So, Uh, Paul George Dispelled Any Questions Regarding His Superstar Status Last Night…

I’m in love (#Pause). Have you ever seen a kid with as much composure or indefatigability not named Lebron James or drafted outside of the top 5 at the age of 23? Last night was an embodiment of resiliency only displayed by the game’s all-time greats. From seamlessly forgetting a no where to be found first half, to serving as the catalyst behind thwarting Miami’s 12 to 2 “here we go again” run to open the second half, to time and time again winning the battle of isolations with Lebron on the defensive end, to knocking down COLDDDD BLOODED free throws, mid range pull ups and of course 30 foot buzzer beaters…What else is there to say other than Paul George is a bonafide 23 year old top five NBA talent in the making.

4.) Coaches Corner: As We All Know, Roy Hibbert Should Have Been in the Game…Twice.

Clearly, Paul George should have played Lebron for the J as opposed to the drive but who cares. Frank’s taking the blame.

No need for me to delve much into this debacle full of late game fuckery. Rule #1 in preparing for late game situations with Goliath on PED’s: You do E V E R Y T H I N G in your power to make sure The King feels inclined to relinquish any thought of his finishing the game himself. Thus, force deference of responsibility to someone else not named Lebron James. The sequence itself was far too brief for Lebron to all in one attack the basket, deal with Hibbert mid air and try to hit Chris Bosh for a not rushed short corner jumper. Mono-e-mono at the rim at that point, Coach. Not to mention that at this point in his career, Lebron is going for gold on his lonesome. I’m sure James has no incentive to re-hash any scarring memories from 2011…

Yea, how about we not forget that Vogel did the unthinkable 9.2 seconds prior before once again indulging in the unthinkable. Is Coach really that spooked by Chris Bosh shooting 43% from deep? Hey, if Miami looks to play five out, I help like a Brazilian house-maid off of Bosh and bait Lebron to kick. Be my guest, Chris, continue shooting 43% from deep on 16 post season attempts. That small sample size looks gooooood to me!

P.S. Why is that we always have to tune into one woman obnoxiously screaming after a big play? Can the production crew please do something about that? Christ…

5.) This Series Ultimately Comes Down to Lebron Averaging 30, 10 and 10.

Or let’s just say he has to be the Lebron James of last year’s Eastern Conference Semi-Final where he put the team on his back (doe) and averaged 30 points, 10.8 rebounds and 6.7 assists over 6 games. Had Indiana not foregone a number of self-debilitating, easily avoidable turnovers, Miami would have been more or less entirely relegated to the half court. Yes, when Frank Vogel’s bunch doesn’t shoot themselves in the foot with turnovers and George Hill can compose himself enough in the backcourt to not make Norris Cole look like an all first team NBA defender, the Pacers are remarkably capable of slowing Miami’s prowess in transition. Thus, this series comes down to the clear cut advantages within 48.5 feet.. And, folks, the only clear cut advantage I see in this series is Lebron James over all. Roy Hibbert and David West take the battle of Chris Bosh. Although appearing spry and healthy, Dwayne Wade has yet to show any indication that he’s ready to pull out the vintage Dwayne Wade. And Indiana is so unbelievably talented at disrupting Miami’s half court fluidity and multiple ball reversals that the trademark corner three is as far from as prevalent as its been otherwise….Like I said, Lebron must pull a Magic Johnson of 1980 and dump on everyone from all five positions, but for 4 games instead of one. I’m assuming we’ll be seeing some unprecedented greatness from James in this series. NBD.

 

 

Eagles Cornerback Brandon Boykin and QB Nick Foles are Pick Up Basketball Problems

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Am I impressed to see a NFL cornerback hammer a reverse ally oop in transition? Well, considering he has a 39 inch vertical and shuts it down at high school dunk contests then, no, I am not blown away; he is, however, 5’10. Time and time again do we all forget that these guys are world class athletes capable of transitioning their athleticism into other sports. Football isn’t a field full of one trick ponies. Nonetheless, if we were ballin’ at LA fitness and my dude happened to be there, we’d be bypassing the whole free throw thing in picking teams and I’d select him number one overall. Actually, hold up. Jeremy Maclin goes number in the choice between him and Boykin. J-Mac is a legitimate problem.

Nick Foles, on the other hand, just blew me away. Did he just really step right, plant, spin left and dunk in one motion? And he’s banging silky smooth three’s? Uh, what? You are a god damn liar if you told me you saw that one coming. Do I dare say we’ve got a new best white quarterback, former basketball player on the block? Smells like a challenge to me, Ben Roethlisberger.

P.S. Who are the Eagles playing against? 6’1, 220 pound, 25% body fat ex-Chain smokers and expertise beer drinkers? Step that competition up, fellas!

P.S.S. Conor Barwin and BJ Cunningham are garbage

#HitEm

Can We Just Take Yet Another Moment of Our Time to Meditate on San Antonio’s Game 1 Brilliance?

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First, how about three claps for Matt Bonner? The Concord, New Hampshire stone cold unorthodox, New Balance killer finished the last four games of the Golden St. series playing no more than 7 minutes a contest because of his defensive liableness against the small ball Harrison Barnes cross match (Had David Lee quit it with the torn hip flexor heroics and Bonner would have never seen the floor over those four). Not to mention GS pulled a Memphis of 2011 and switched every and any Bonner pick/pop scenario, which meant the greatest sling shot jumper in the history of sling shot jumpers was made useless. Yesterday afternoon? Well, let’s just say I had an awkward Boner for Bonner (yes, awkward Boners for Bonner are kosher) because the man was the epitome of New England white boy, intelligent, work horse, ”I’m going to frustrate the fuck out of you with super effort when cutting, fronting the post and screening” style of basketball (Fact: If a native of New England grassroot hoops, you’d understand us white boys go HAM in mastering the intricacies of the game and thus play some of the more annoying basketball out there). Which all led to 12 points on 4 of 6 from deep in 17 minutes. A full on display of knowing how to stay ready in anticipation of your number being called. For all you discontented high schoolers pissed off over playing time, look to the Red Mamba.

Now, onto the topic at hand: Could Greg Popovich and Tim Duncan (I’ll throw Tony Parker in there as well although all praise of how spectacular Parker was is at this point old news) been more exceedingly brilliant? Prior to Game 1, Conley, Z-Bo and Gasol averaged a combined 56 points per contest throughout the playoffs. So what does Pop do defensively? Well, simple enough, he leaves room for two of those three to go off while making sure one lame duck has a terrible time. And as game film indicates, Memphis is predicated on a myriad of quick hit, hi-low/pick and roll action in which much of their post entry angles come from the top of the key. Against the likes of LA and OKC (teams who for loved getting bullied 3 to 9 feet from the cup), that action was nothing but murder as Z-Bo and Gasol were able to immediately seal and catch the rock deep enough to either get to the line or force defenses to collapse at will—Memphis has scored a playoff best 221 points off of post ups and Gasol/Z-Bo are getting to the line nearly 14 plus times per game combined. Thus, Pop simply throws an unfamilar look at Lionel Hollins: he fronts everything. Yes, everything; Even Tony Parker fronted the post when switching onto Z-Bo in the pick and roll. The result? Memphis resists deviating from their gameplan offensively, the once effective post entry angels bit the dust, one of Memphis’ big three was sentenced to box score prison, the 20.1 points per game off of post-ups turned anomalistic, not a single free throw was shot in the first half between the Twin “We Can Barely Jump Over a Phone Book” Towers (only two for the entire game) and a world was flipped on its axis. Try to lob it over the top? Baseline help came to the rescue. Z-Bo tries to play the game of inches in the paint with Tim Duncan on his back? Timmy fools Z by repeatedly pulling a Rick Mahorn (i.e. pulling the chair) as Z prepared to establish his base off the ball, flips the script by fronting him and once again baits the wings to uncomfortably throw it over the top. Tyshaun Prince or Tony Allen try to create a better angle to feed the ball into the post? Kawhi Leonard and his enormous hands and anticipation have ’em all too shook up and swarmed to do so in time. Brilliance.

Of course, adjustsments by Hollins will be made as a small sample size record of 8 and 1 after Game 1′s predicts bouncing back is in this team’s DNA. Defensively, the Grizz were the worst we’ve ever seen. Whether it was inappropriately jumping/doubling the ball handler in pick and rolls, inappropriately showing help off the wing to stop dribble penetration from Tony Parker or improperly rotating up to the kick back option at the elbow three extended off of pick and rolls that many a time forced Z-Bo uncharacteristically to huff and puff his way to closing out perimeter jump shooters, we were made hip to garbage on an end the Grizz are normally superb at performing on. But unlike the series of 2013′s playoff past, the NBA’s best defensive squadron has to adjust to a Spurs team that occupies every bit of the floor’s 50 feet in width. This time, there will be no standing and watching as all five guys pack it in. This time, Memphis’ weakside defense cannot key in on the strong side of the floor without getting punished by subtle weakside off ball action for corner/wing three’s. This time, the likes of Gasol and Randolph will be incessantly preoccupied and forced to expend energy (as you will remember, that was something that I mentioned they never had to do against Perk or Ibaka because Scotty Brooks decided to tackle the unexpected in predicable fashion. No wonder Z-Bo wasn’t lively enough to fight with San Antonio’s post defense on every possession). In all, last night was more than just a 20 plus point whomping; it was a reality check in which The Grizz finally felt the wrath of preparing for a champion. Writers can complain and scoff at the dearth of Z-Bo post touches and inability to establish the inside/out brand of basketball that has brought them to their first Conference Finals appearance in Franchise history. But without a solution capable of at least slowing Tony Parker’s dribble penetration onslaught, the road going forward looks bleak. Memphis Bleek to be exact (no one wants to be compared to Memphis Bleek).

Best believe Z is in Deep Thought as I write this. A wholeee bunch of reevaluating to do.

 

How OKC’s Crippled Run Was an Encapsulation of Everything Scott Brooks Has Done Wrong at the Helm

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The art of coaching is one predicated on a multitude of things: the ability to properly manage substitution patterns, the ability to motivate and unearth hidden talents in players, the ability to defy predicability. But above all else lies the following: an ability to make on the fly, game-to-game adjustments when faced with the unexpected. Whether it be compensating for the loss of a marquee contributor through a manipulation of game plan (i.e. discouraging the thought of freelancing by assuming more control of the offense from the sidelines) or employing never before used line-ups better suited to an opponent’s personnel, how a coach attempts to handle the unexpected is what ultimately separates the mediocre from the spectacular basketball mind. And in 2013′s postseason, we time and time again can acknowledge the ability of a sideline general to conquer or at least battle to the brink of defeat with the unexpected. Tom Thibodeau gave ye ‘ol “fuck off” look to the unexpected by willing a proposterously undermanned Chicago team to a bar fight in Brooklyn/South Beach through a reliance on well orchestrated sets and an endemic pitbullish persona—by the way, stealing a game on the road against the defending champs with THAT personnel equates to a bar fight, even if the series ended in five and featured two of the worst offensive performances in Chicago Bull playoff history. Mark Jackson tackled the unexpected by both resorting to ingenious small ball via moving Harrison “The Truth” Barnes to the power forward slot and employing his reverential tactics of motivation. Lionel Hollins TROMPED the unexpected by answering the question of how Memphis would handle the last five minutes of games without a go to “superstar” named Rudy Gay by entrusting the once considered overpaid Mike Conley, illustrating to NBA franchises that ground and pound basketball is far from an outdated Championship formula, and instilling an attitude that embodies the beauty of a small market team.

In all, what those examples epitomize is that where there is a go to offensive system, a coach who knows how to ease the load with timely play calling, and an infectious, tough minded personality that players cannot help but gravitate towards on the sidelines, there is a way to win ball games and probe for unforeseen production at the expense of the unintended or unexpected.

After a mortifying NBA Finals appearance that ended at the hands of a Lebron James triple double (yes, the fifth ever clinching triple double in Finals history), the question plaguing this Thunder bunch was could they escape the confines of predicability; Are the conventional pin downs for Westbrook/Durant, the lack of fluidity and multiple ball reversals, and heavy reliance on do it yourself basketball enough to tromp Miami come 2013? Thus, Scotty Brooks was put to the test. And while Coach answered by refining and adding to some of his standard play calls, OKC’s DNA remained eerily similar: either blast teams in transition or stand and watch two superstars with the sheer level of fire power needed to defy the use of any real offensive scheme and lack of post play. Indeed, it was a perplexing, yet effective formula that we all expected the Thunder to ride another sniff at the title with. But on April 26th, Scott Brooks, the Thunder’s sideline general, was for the first time in his 299 career game tenure forced to charter into entirely unfamiliar territory. A territory that would “rock his world.” A Russell Westbook-less territory. An unexpected territory.

Much like a Thibodeau or a Jackson or a Popovich, he’d have to be resourceful, he’d have to be strategically brilliant, he’d have to be bold enough to make game-to-game adjustments never seen by his players, he’d have to have the courage to pull a Harrson Barnes and force guys into playing a type of basketball they had never played before (things required in order to be successful at the expense of the unexpected). A page out of Rick Carlisle’s 2011 Dallas Mavericks playbook, the very same play book containing the formula for success against the Miami Heat, to better move defenses side to side, avoid offensive stagnation and prevent everyone and their moms from keying in on Kevin Durant for 48 minutes? Mixing in a couple rare touches on the block for Ibaka to show Western Conference defenses a look they had yet to see before? Far from it: Reggie Jackson did his best Russell Westbrook impression (a commendable one at that, he was unreal given the circumstances if you ask me), the bunch relied predominantly on creating shots for themselves and others off make shift dribble penetration, Kendrick Perkins played an inordinate amount (yikes), the Thunder looked like the exact same team schematically, almost everyone of Kevin Durant’s shot attempts were fully contested (a true testament to how great he was) and the comparisons to Lebron’s ’09 Cavaliers piled in (Who knew Lorenzen Wright was on that team? I sure didn’t!)…Once again, predictability galore.

Obviously, the question that now rightfully comes to mind is how could one have expected the Thunder to contend without a 23 point per game sidekick superstar possessing the unprecedented skill to put pressure on defenses whenever he please—especially when such loss came two games into the extended season? Of course, to expect anything close to a title from this Westbrook-less bunch is insane. But in observing how Scott Brooks tackled the unexpected, we, or at least I, the sensible one, alluded to a greater picture; a picture of a job who’s ineptitude has been masked for quite some time by two bigger than life young gunners capable of even making the ’97-00 version of Rick Pitino look good. A picture of a long term extension that never would have been granted had Serge Ibaka and Kendrick Perkins (yes, Kendrick Perkins) not come on late in Game 5 against San Antonio—Scott  95% chance Brooks ends up in another city if they lose that series. Because when Memphis’ grind it out approach inevitably relegated OKC to the half court and Durant couldn’t shake quintuple teams, we saw…well, no coaching.

There was no trace of a staple scheme that allowed OKC to get away from starting their offense through a right/left elbow extended KD post up. There was no constant instruction for well orchestrated off ball action opposite of isolations that we normally see in Boston with Paul Pierce or in Miami with Lebron (you know, when guys set simple weakside down, back, or flare screens to occupy defenses and deter them from overloading strong side in a near standstill). There was no urging of Ibaka to hit the block and challenge Z-Bo’s dominance of the paint. Rarely ever were there any possessions in which we saw the ball whip along the perimeter and guys display brilliant extra passes and read and react dribble penetration. Granted Memphis is the best defensive team in the NBA, you’d expect a coach to find some way of discouraging a team that thrives off of packing it in from packing it in. But Brooks never did. And consequently, the Thunder played an identity-less style of basketball predicated on isolations that failed to thwart Kendrick Perkins’ offensive god awfulness, set up Kevin Martin off the ball for anything other than a quick hit curl (his intelligent baseline backcuts were a product brilliant read and react basketball, not Scott Brooks), allow KD to get a couple easy half court at the basket looks (yea, shooters usually need a couple lay ups here and there to get going), or get their half court offense into any type of rhythm. I mean, heck, if I’m a coach on the outside looking in, I see THIS and immediately think to myself, “Um, is the guy on the sidelines kidding me? Gross, dude…”

Believe me, I’ve repeatedly harped on how unkosher forcing one’s team to play a style of basketball anomalous to their 80 plus game past is. I personally might not see any excuse for why say Serge Ibaka was never told to hit the block and at least attempt some sort of poor man’s rendition of inside/out ball to compensate for Russ (I still cannot fathom how Ibaka has not yet been conditioned to mix it up and hop off settling for 18 footers. You watched and you saw glimpses of how great he’d be in the 6 to 9 foot range if confident…where’s the skill development been at, coach?). When considering the fragility of the playoffs, however, I guess one could excuse Brooks for being risk aversive. Nonetheless, those four consecutive loses along with how he seemingly refused to deviate from his already non-existant system were purely a demonstration of a championship formula not suited for any contender; a formula coach has now used for the last three years. Sure, when you have Ratchet Russ to complement Kevin Durant, defying the principles of stagnation and the need for play calling is feasible. But as we saw in 2012, the extent to how effective such plan of attack can be is limited. And by adhering to that brand of basketball in Westbrook’s absence, I could not help but to predict this team will continually find themselves stuck in their tracks when it MATTERS (i.e. in a seven game series against Miami aka the soon to be perennial world champs).

So as we look upon the future of this Thunder Franchise, I cannot help but to ask the following: Is Scott Brooks the guy for this team right now? Because in my humble opinion, this playoff has served as full proof as to why Kevin Durant will never get a ring unless changes are made. You just can’t win the whole shebangdathang in this league without a general on sidelines who can implement an offense; not to mention a leader who refuses  to crack a blatant look of anxiousness when his team’s back appears to be against the wall (was it just me or did he just exude this unbearable nervous feeling in the 4th quarter of games 3 and 4?). Rolling the ball out and expecting Westbrook and KD to essentially get it done via spectacular individual play after spectacular individual play might win a Conference Finals, but not a NBA Finals. I mean, for Christ’s sake, how good would this team be if they played like THIS.

As opposed to THIS!

THIS!

AND, once again, THIS! Yes, that’s Scott Brooks running absolutely nothing with 3:18 left in the 4th…Am I watching high school basketball? I’m pretty sure that’s what we ran at Salisbury against Hotchkiss and there star studded brute of a point guard, Derrick Wilson. Yes, we lost by double digits.

 

P.S.

2010: LA beat OKC, won Finals

2011: Dallas beat OKC, won Finals

2012: Miami beat OKC, won Finals

2013: Memphis beat OKC, …Hmmmm

 

 

Britney Griner Receives Help on Her Shit Ass Post Game From Kareem Abdul-Jabaar

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I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again: I’ve watched enough (maybe too much) Britney Griner to admit her accomplishments on the college level were inflated. Her numbers were never a matter of Rebecca Lobo-esque post game and brilliance down low. Her numbers were a matter of being 6’8 and matched up with chicks who could barely either reach the top of her tit or chin when fully extended. It was unadulterated, yet unfair dominance. No one ever wanted to discuss her traveling 65% of the time or not being able to turn over her right shoulder and finish with the left. But now that she’s in the pro’s and working with Kareem, everyone will forget that her overall skill set was once upon a time complete shit. Bunk. In no way am I excited to see her try to become the greatest women’s basketball player of all time. Sheryl “I’m Broke But Fuck It I’m a 4 Time MVP” Swoops all day.

Work on those sweeping hooks, girl! Best get ready for that Australian chick down in Seattle. She’ll body that ass AND pull you out to the perimeter! We in the big leagues now! Ain’t got time for games, bitch!

 

 

The King’s Game 5 Playoff Numbers From 2012 Taking You Into Tonight’s Route of The Bulls

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Because he has yet to ball in a Game 5 this year, I thought I’d take a quick gander at how Lebron James faired in Game 5′s last post season. My condolences, Chicago. Ain’t lookin to hot. Hit ‘Em, bitch

1.) First Round–May 9th, 2012 vs New York: 29 points on 44% from the field, 8 boards, 7 assists, 2 steals, 13 for 15 from the strike. Miami spoils the Knicks return to MSG as Jimmy Dolan craps his pants over yet another woeful post season performance. See ya later, dick sticks!

2.) Conference Semi-Finals–May 22, 2012 vs Indiana: The King complements his Game 4 onslaught of 40 points, 18 rebounds and 9 assists with 30, 10 and 8 on 63% shooting from the floor as he once again reminded Pacer Nation that they should have shut their pie holes while they were still ahead. Get ready, Paul George. Its about to be yet another long ride (#pause)

3.) Conference Finals–June 5th, 2012 vs. Boston: 30 points and 13 rebounds on 44% shooting in loss at the expense of a resurrected KG. Ehh, kind of a meek performance if you ask me. Oh, well, at least he followed up with 45, 15 and 5 in the defining moment of his career that to this day still gives me nightmares (yes, I was there and, yes, I projectile vomited on a pair of Hassidic Jews sitting next to me in Section 305).

4.) NBA Finals–June 21st, 2012 vs OKC: Lebron becomes one of only five players in NBA history to record a triple double  (26 points, 13 assists and 11 rebounds) in a finals clinching game. Yikes

Goodluck, Chicago!

Daniel Tosh Nails 30 for 30.0 on Nerf Hoops, Despite Some Weak Sauce Remarks From Bill Simmons

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Solid gold. All of it. I’ve turned a new leaf. I now love Tosh.0. Carried a legitimate prejudice about the show after watching the first season, which was unadulterated ass cheeks—Anyone who thinks the first season was funny is probably an ’08 graduate of Beaver Country Day School who rolls face at Quincy, Mass’ own Ocean Club on a work week Tuesday. Now? Can’t get enough of it. His web redemption with this loser? Priceless. Jalen Rose talking his ass off about Kenny Skywalker in 1989′s dunk contest and how Russell Westbrook swagger jacked Sally Jessy Raphael for her steez? Done deal. Darryl “I Used to Know A LOT of Ball Players Who Did Cocaine in the 70′s/Early 80′s” Dawkins throwing shots at Christian “I Love Heli-Skiing(?)” Laettner’s bogus 1992 Dream Team Appearance? Awesome. A reference to Chuck Nevitt as the best white boy dunker of all time on national television? Unprecedented as 99.8 % of the show’s viewers have not but the slightest fucking clue to who the 7’5 dink ex-Laker and member of the North Carolina Wolfpack ever was. Claiming Blake Griffin as one of our own? Hilarious and something American white boys, including Skip Bayless, are thinking. All around impressive comedy in my book, even though I’m a bit disappointed in Spud Diesel
Bill Simmons? Well, let’s just say the best basketball journalist in the business (maybe of all time) is neither made for Comedy Central nor the camera. This sketch just speaks volumes as to why every bit of his humor is only to be told on paper. Read one of his jokes and you’ll laugh. Hear his comedy in person and you’ll struggle not to projectile vomit. Its unbearably weaksauce. Believe me, Bill. I ain’t trying to burn any bridges. All a motherfucker like me wants to do is write for Grantland and show the world why they should have been reading NBA columns by Chris Kattan from the jump (Yes, Bill, I’ve got the guts. Intern me.). But for you to potentially get offended at my referring to your humor as being more horrific than that of a self-loathing Jew’s is preposterous (by the way, I can say that because I’m a Yid and listening to my father rally off jokes over Passover dinner about his pops dying in the Holocaust as a result of falling off a watch tower has made me want to knock myself out to avoid overwhelming second hand embarrassment). I’ll admit, the Jeff Green/Manti Te’o analogy was solid gold. Other than that, its all dweebs galore and intellectual allusions to pop culture and sports that just aren’t…well, funny. You’d have to be crazy to crack an actual smile at that abomination of a He Got Game joke. Its fucking terrible and you don’t know it because Magic Johnson and Mike Wilbon have yet to sack it up and tell you otherwise.
Bill, its okay, we all can’t crush every facet of life. Comedy just isn’t you. Stick to the brilliant trade value columns and podcasts full of “I don’t try, thus they are funny” jokes. It’ll do ya a world full of difference.
P.S. Get Money, Fuck Bitches, Bill!

Baby Jesus’ Preposterous 3rd Quarter Shot Chart Taking You Into Golden St.’s Game 5 Victory

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….Yes, dot, dot, dot is all that comes to mind. Whaddya say now, Mark Jackson? How about leading these young gunners to an unthinkable Game 5 steal in San Antonio???

P.S. Hey NBA.com, how about getting us a shot chart of attempts via only his left hand. I swear on mamas Baby Jesus shoots plus 50% on lefty runners/floaters

P.S. HAWT, HAWT, HAWT, HAWT

Andrew Wiggins Joins Wayne Selden at Kansas. Oh Happy Day!

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Fuck a 2012 Kentucky reenactment. Rockchalk Jayhawk all damn dizzay! My main man aka freakazoid is joining Boston’s own Wayne Selden? HEY NOW! Taking that already stacked in coming freshman class to new heights (Joel Embiid is a seven foot problem child)! Could not be more happy. All in all, my assessment is as follows: we’ll shortly be seeing the emergence of a Harrison Barnes on steroids who without doubt would have been the sure shot #1 pick of this year’s NBA draft; a class that looks to be riding a thin line of finite comparison between 2000′s disappointing crop of prospect. Which essentially equates to a monster destined for greatness who I will in no way compare to Lebron; Lebron forever remains in category that no other prospect can sniff. Another Lenny Cooke? Well, word on the street of GM’s is he’s better than Anthony Davis, Derrick Rose, Kyrie Irving and Blake Griffin ever were at this point in their careers. So I think not. Hit ‘Em.

P.S. 2014′s NBA Draft Class has the potential for being better than that of 2003′s. Unbelievable. Legitimately crazy in terms of how good that class is.

P.S.S. My personal vote for the Nation’s best player next year is Aaron Gordon. Mark my words.

Sleepy Floyd’s 51 Point Night Sending You Off Into Baby Jesus’ Take Over of Game 3 vs. San Antonio

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*The highlights start at the 1:36 mark. Peep George Karl’s mullet.

May 10th marks the night of one of the more memorable performances in NBA Playoff History. ”The Sleepy Floyd Game” has a special place in NBA history because it was so unexpected. Floyd set the NBA playoff record for points in a quarter (29) and half (39) in a Warriors win over the Lakers. Floyd had scored just 19, 11 and 14 points in the first three games of the 1987 Western Conference semifinals; then, in Game 4 he exploded for 51 points, 10 assists, 4 steals and 3 rebounds.

Tonight might not be Game 4, but its May 10th. Do I feel a 51 point onslaught from Harrison Barnes in my plums? No, no I do not. But I do indeed smell a monstrous performance from the breakout superstar himself, Baby Jesus aka Stephen Curry. Then again, I was nearly shitting bricks over a superstar named Carmelo Anthony following in Lebron James’ footsteps for a Game 6 in TD Garden, so I could very well be jinxing the entire thing. Nonetheless, The Warriors are out and they are ready to play.