I was highly amused the other night when the ESPN talking heads were all ga-ga about Big Baby Davis and Nate Robinson showing “emotion” and “joy” on the floor and being so “energized.” Nate said they have to show emotion like that to get themselves and their team “into the game.” So, playing in the NBA Finals for the sport's highest honor and making millions of dollars a year to play basketball isn’t enough incentive for you to play hard and, hell, care?
Sigh.
Speaking of LeBron, I’d like a show of hands for anybody else getting sick of all the drama. How many times have you heard that the city of Cleveland will be emotionally and economically destroyed if he leaves? You know what? I’m to the point of saying just go if you don’t want to be here. Cleveland will survive. That said, I still think he’s staying. I heard from a pretty good source that the Cavs expect him to re-sign for a 3-year extension. I also heard that Danny Ferry left because he didn’t want to fire Mike Brown but Gilbert overruled him and is now calling all the shots. Ruh-roh. Hope we don’t have another Jerry Jones on our hands.
Thought on the coaching situation. Can you picture Tom Izzo standing there while LeBron and Co. go through their whole picture taking routine before games, just smiling? Me either. Then again, for 30-million he just might think it’s hilarious.
When did height become length? I’ve been involved in basketball for over 40-years and I never heard the term “length” used until a few years ago. I never heard an announcer say, “Boy, that Wilt Chamberlain causes a lot of problems out there with his length” (insert Wilt sex joke here). Also, apparently fast breaks are now run-outs. Go figure.
Final NBA thought. The refs control the series. L.A. wins game six and Game 7 will go as the referees call it. Let ‘em play, Celts win. Call it tight, edge to L.A. In addition, Joey Crawford’s an ass.
OK everybody, settle down. Stephen Strasburg’s had a couple great games. Let’s not induct him into the Hall of fame just yet (I’m talking to you, Bob Costas). Hey, I’m old enough to remember one of the last great phenoms. Had a poster of him on my wall. He went 17-3, before the All-Star game, in 1971. He finished 24-8 and had a good career, winning over 200 games. His name? Vida Blue. How many of you can tell me who he played for? Probably everybody because that’s his picture up there, but you get the point. Nolan Ryan he wasn’t, though everybody thought he was in the beginning. Listen, I don’t wish any ill will on the Strasburg kid but I predict arm troubles. He throws too much with his arm and not enough with his legs. Just sayin’. Call me in 3-years.
For the life of me I can’t watch the World Cup, and Lord knows I’ve tried. My son played soccer, loves it, and watches it all. He knows the best players from Slovenia and South Africa and knows the difference between a Flick Header and a Front Header (I had to look those up – Googled "soccer terms"). All I see is a bunch of guys running around scoring no points. Case in point – the Americans are thrilled with a 1-1 tie against England. Huh? That’s foreign to me, and I mean that literally. If they got rid of the goalies they might have a pretty cool game, but right now it’s like a basketball game with a guy on a chair in front of the rim, swatting away 99% of the shots.
Finally, does anybody still watch Pardon the Interruption? I do, and I've done a complete 180 on Wilbon and Kornheiser. I use to think Kornheiser was an ass and that Wilbon was pretty cool. Now Wilbon has become such a name-dropping, self-important blowhard that I can't stand him. He has to preface every comment with, "When I spoke to Shaq the other day . . ." or "Hey, Ray Allen's a friend of mine but . . ." I'm telling you it's disgusting. Meanwhile, Kornheiser's crusty old man act has become somewhat endearing.
That’s all I got. The Outer Banks, and a Chillipepper's Oyster Po' Boy, await.
