tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792167674916779882024-03-05T23:05:49.394-08:00The Renaissance FanJoe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.comBlogger310125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-88382858353321454812012-03-29T09:01:00.000-07:002012-03-29T09:01:40.763-07:00Suit Shopping With Rip HamiltonRip Hamilton, 34-year-old professional basketball player, took his daily stroll though downtown Chicago. He noticed the little things; cracks in the pavement, children strapped to large backpacks on their way to school, and the fearless pigeons, ready for all challengers of their 5x5 sidewalk space. These pigeons reminded Rip of the vaunted Detroit defense he was a part of not too long ago. He missed those days but was anxious to get on with his new life in Chicago. Life, however, was unwilling to cooperate.<br />
<br />
On beautiful days like these - 65 and clear skies - Rip did not mind walking a mile to his tailor. Walking allowed for him to rid his mind of the injury concerns that plagued his first season in Chicago and the pressure of being the final piece to a championship puzzle. Bulls fan who noticed Rip walking alone down the street would react differently. Some would ignore him all together as if to say, 'you aren't shit if you aren't playing.' Others would slyly pull out their iPhones and snap pictures. Some would be bold enough to ask for an autograph or to pose for a photo. Rip accommodated all requests, always with a smile. He enjoyed the banter and good-natured inquiries about his mask but withdrew when the conversation took its predictable turn.<br />
<br />
"When are you coming back?" someone would inevitably ask.<br />
<br />
"I don't know. I just don't know. Hopefully soon."<br />
<br />
Truth be told, no one was more disappointed than Rip himself. He'd recommitted himself to basketball after spearheading a team-wide insurrection of then-Pistons coach John Kuester. Were his injuries the result of his past transgressions? Perhaps karma rearing its ugly head? He sure hoped not.<br />
<br />
Rip escaped the mob as quick as he came and continued on to his favorite tailor's shop [name retracted]. He trusted Christopher for more than just fashion advice. Christopher to him was an honorable man with his best interests in mind. He valued Rip's friendship as much as his wallet and would occasionally delve into more personal matters such as Rip's marriage or his mental health. These conversations, albeit brief, were revealing and only strengthened the bond between the two. Christopher was Rip's only acquaintance allowed to call him Richard.<br />
<br />
Rip swung open the door only to find Christopher, arms already perched on the counter. He had a sixth sense when it came to Rip's arrival.<br />
<br />
"Richard! So great to see you."<br />
<br />
"Good to see you too, my man."<br />
<br />
"I read in the papers that you're finally able to lift you arm above you shoulder."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, well I've been able to do that. We just have to make it look like I'm making progress. As of now, I'm still a game-time-decision."<br />
<br />
Christopher knew what game-time decision meant.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTlBz2RN_-1cXzXtIXHgYRt1CvuJpdtXxGXpcU-atEhwqxkoSaLyizUDO3y_BnNpmyc03ly-zbe7rYtCsWqwUrYexyMiWljvVKNaKNZIYmxrUlbrPuv3bJZv35fpaYi0WtoXtqZ4VqB42p/s1600/Rip+Hamilton+Tailor.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTlBz2RN_-1cXzXtIXHgYRt1CvuJpdtXxGXpcU-atEhwqxkoSaLyizUDO3y_BnNpmyc03ly-zbe7rYtCsWqwUrYexyMiWljvVKNaKNZIYmxrUlbrPuv3bJZv35fpaYi0WtoXtqZ4VqB42p/s400/Rip+Hamilton+Tailor.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"I have just the thing," he said as he went scampering to the back. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Christopher came out with a grey suit, already tailored to Rip's exact measurements.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"This suit exudes confidence and class. It speaks to your ability, even at an advanced age, to remain fit and sexy. People will see you in this suit and think, 'That's a man who isn't letting his injury get him down. He'll be back in no time, better than ever! Ready to score all the baskets!'"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Ok. I'll try it on."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1UizWsBYqt8VZMVlJWNJ1cXASAlqsM593HzBom0Nu8J4xL_IsZZPoRVzrIa34z_829-GMqu3lG3a4Hl0zHOS9eu35OG_rWuWFQnzuMYexXhv2EFk3WKomfmknh4DvwyOr0ngVzHkIN_XY/s1600/Rip+Hamilton+Suit+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1UizWsBYqt8VZMVlJWNJ1cXASAlqsM593HzBom0Nu8J4xL_IsZZPoRVzrIa34z_829-GMqu3lG3a4Hl0zHOS9eu35OG_rWuWFQnzuMYexXhv2EFk3WKomfmknh4DvwyOr0ngVzHkIN_XY/s400/Rip+Hamilton+Suit+2.jpg" width="278" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Stunning. Absolutely stunning."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"I'm not sure," Rip said with some hesitation. He felt very uncomfortable challenging Christopher's opinion. "It's not exactly what I'm looking for, ya know?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Sure. What are you trying to convey?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"I'm trying to be on some High School Reunion shit. Like, 'Look at me Now'-type shit. We're playing Detroit on Friday. That's a big one for me. I spent seven years there and won a championship. I want to show them how good I'm doing now. Like I don't need them. I'm good, ya feel me?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"I have just the thing."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Christopher rushed into the back for a second time and came out with another suit, this time in black. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"This suit says, 'You can't tell me nothin'.' This is a suit typically reserved for red-carpet events. With this, you'll be the sharpest-dressed man in the room! Make sure to keep that wedding ring on! You will be the envy of Detroit and might even be offered the mayoral position on the spot. Bow ties are all the rage right now!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Hell yeah. Alright. I'ma get into this."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi72xN-YCd9m0wpbvJzDUkRJA-rraeVUMVSOF05SzzsW7qHurdeeIFM2k7X6SBP76XJi87PO8GOmRPSqKaNKWqJl8I2cXlCsgcC5Wj2VUgO56HIFYwI9KiyiW35wLxrps8IkfjryrpNJGyg/s1600/Rip+Hamilton+Suit+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi72xN-YCd9m0wpbvJzDUkRJA-rraeVUMVSOF05SzzsW7qHurdeeIFM2k7X6SBP76XJi87PO8GOmRPSqKaNKWqJl8I2cXlCsgcC5Wj2VUgO56HIFYwI9KiyiW35wLxrps8IkfjryrpNJGyg/s400/Rip+Hamilton+Suit+1.jpg" width="300" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Impeccable!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Yep. This is it right here."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rip pulled out his American Express black card and handed it to Christopher. He continued to look at himself in the mirror, admiring the fit. He had never looked this good in his life, he thought. Tayshaun Prince would surely be jealous of his situation. And the bow tie! Christopher really was a genius. Never in a million years would Rip have thought to wear a bow tie on the sideline and it absolutely worked. He was thankful for this suit. He was thankful for Christopher and his good fortune. He couldn't wait to bring it home and show his wife.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Christopher approached Rip cautiously. " Umm, Richard. There's a problem."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"What is it?"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Your credit card. It's...it's been declined."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"That can't be right."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"I thought the same thing. I tried multiple times and they all came back declined."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"Shit. Let me call these people up."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rip spoke for an hour with a representative of American Express. She assured him they would resolve his problem, but there had been problems with many accounts nationwide. They were working on it, she promised in broken English. She gave him no guarantee as to when he would be able to use his card.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rip knew what this meant. No suit, at least not today. "I don't know what to do, Christopher. I have no means of purchasing a suit for the game."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Christopher thought for a second and smiled. "Don't you see, Richard? This is a sign."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rip looked at him bewildered.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"It's a sign. You must return to play against your former team on Friday."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"But it's been so long. I can't do this."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"You can, Richard. You can. Believe in yourself and you will make all the baskets!"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">He knew Christopher was right. This was something he had to do. He had to prove he could play to the city of Chicago, his teammates, and most of all, himself. At that moment, the pain in his shoulder temporarily subsided. He thought of the pigeons and the current Bulls defense. And it dawned on him, he was home. Different city, but home nonetheless.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"I'll be here Sunday," Christopher reminded him. "Just in case."</div>Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-19041857160768216092012-03-27T08:09:00.000-07:002012-03-27T08:09:02.776-07:00Inside JaVale's Head<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg91dHHenF9DnSFG2SC1A4qsZPfNFP7EkarE309aqeEGieW63fE-S-01DSkco2fNPCa3j_pPOPnikrEkF1z5rjCLBS3rc0ZnOGZFTkQGh1dD8wTVQB6OIkv7QUSaG6bpof0P2nAhBW9LZxq/s1600/JaVale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg91dHHenF9DnSFG2SC1A4qsZPfNFP7EkarE309aqeEGieW63fE-S-01DSkco2fNPCa3j_pPOPnikrEkF1z5rjCLBS3rc0ZnOGZFTkQGh1dD8wTVQB6OIkv7QUSaG6bpof0P2nAhBW9LZxq/s400/JaVale.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">To call JaVale McGee a talented knucklehead would be as insensitive as it is correct. JaVale has quietly suffered through a very difficult period of his life in which he hears voices inside his head. These voices, while high-pitched and well-meaning, make it incredibly difficult for him to concentrate on a basketball court. His trade to Denver is thought to offer him a clean slate and hopefully an escape from his inner demons. Here are some examples of what JaVale had to go through in Washington.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l7qhch8rBD1qd3n1to1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://28.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l7qhch8rBD1qd3n1to1_500.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Hi there! Face here! I'm making a sandwich! Do you want to help me make a sandwich? Great! Let's make a sandwich!</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>First, we need two pieces of bread. Now, two pieces of turkey to put on the bread. Do you like lettuce and tomato? I sure do! Let's pile on one piece of lettuce and one tomato slice! Almost done! A little bit of mayo to top it all off! </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Did you put your second piece of bread on top? Yay! We've made a sandwich. Let's eat here at Nick Jr.!</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>[makes trumpet noise with mouth]</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>[laughs]</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">RESULT:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/qhNrJOZHlRI" width="420"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">* * *</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://encrypted-tbn1.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQMUChs9FxvPXZ8dI7c1vr-tsmPtKpyvvTTl_mcAgodwLD8P8mVaw" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://encrypted-tbn1.google.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQMUChs9FxvPXZ8dI7c1vr-tsmPtKpyvvTTl_mcAgodwLD8P8mVaw" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Hi there! Face here! Oh no, JaVale, it's raining! I better come inside before I get all wet!</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>[sneezes]</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>I think I'm developing a cold. I don't like being sick! I should have worn my rain jacket like my mother told me! Do you always listen to your mother?</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>I'm going to be a well-behaved boy from now on at Nick Jr.!</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>[makes trumpet noise with mouth]</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>[laughs]</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;">RESULT:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ciL7GiaXnI8" width="420"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">* * *</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://27.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lhafuubMRK1qhs9rbo2_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://27.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lhafuubMRK1qhs9rbo2_500.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Hi there! Face here! </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Knock Knock!</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>[Who's there?]</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Orange!</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>[Orange who?]</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Orange ya glad you're watching Nick Jr. instead of that knock off Disney stuff?</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>[makes trumpet noise with mouth]</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>[laughs]</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">RESULT:</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/VOB04HvFewA" width="420"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">* * *</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://images.wikia.com/nickelodeonjr/images/3/37/Blue_Face.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://images.wikia.com/nickelodeonjr/images/3/37/Blue_Face.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Hi there! Face here! Look who decided to stop by! It's Blue!</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>We are gonna play Blue's Clues. We are gonna play Blue's Clues. We are gonna solve Blue's Clues because we're really smart!</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Do you want to help us find Blue's first clue, JaVale?</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Ok, it's somewhere on the other side of the court. All you have to do is shoot a bad shot really quick and come running down to us on the other side. OK? Let's play, only on Nick Jr.!</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>[makes trumpet sound with mouth]</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>[laughs]</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;">RESULT:</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ieymkwx3wRU" width="420"></iframe></div>Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-27118183218237578542012-03-25T22:15:00.000-07:002012-03-25T22:15:07.864-07:00Baby, Even The Losers Get Lucky Sometimes<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Sl9Rng9X7bY" width="420"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>CJ Watson</u></b>: The play called for me to inbound the ball to Luol and get it back. I kind of stopped listening to Thibs in the huddle after that. Once I heard the ball was going to be in my hands I was good. My play, my time. The other guys didn't know it yet, but there was no way they were seeing the ball.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>Luol Deng</u></b>: Thibs drew up a nice little play in the huddle to get me rolling to the basket, with an option for an open jumper for either Kyle or Luke. CJ was to inbound the ball to me around the three point line and then come around to receive it back. Then it was my job to roll to the basket. If I was open, CJ would hit me. If not, it was up to him to create off the dribble. I thought it was pretty curious to hear "CJ" and "create" in the same sentence, but I trusted Thibs' vision.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>Carlos Boozer</u></b>: Thibs is a great dude, man. His reputation as a hard ass couldn't be further from the truth. He loves all of his players, especially me. He just has a weird way of showing it. Like, for instance, he barely acknowledges I exist during a timeout. He'll glance at me real quick and then start swearing under his breath. <i>[laughs] </i>My job was basically to set a down screen for Kyle and then try not to get in the way. 'Think of yourself as a highly paid decoy' Thibs said. He's a funny guy.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>Kyle Korver</u></b>: I don't like the ball in these crunch time situations. I get nervous and my hands start to clam up. When my hands start to clam up, it's hard to get a good feel for the ball. Anyway, I saw CJ start to trend to his right, kind of getting himself into a tough situation. I ran from the corner up to the top of the key. I kept thinking 'Please don't give me the ball. Please don't give me the ball. Please don't give me the ball.' My hands felt like I'd dunked them in a tub of ice water and then I remembered it was CJ handling the ball. There was no way he was going to pass it to me, or anyone, for that matter. I was able to calm down and get myself together after that.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>John Lucas III</u></b>: I wanted the ball in my hands. I always do. I'm John Lucas. Why shouldn't I want the ball with the game on the line? Thibs relegated my to the baseline and gave CJ the opportunity to make a play, which is pretty shitty if you ask me. I've been in this league long enough to know that if you want something done, you have to do it yourself. If you're intent on taking a shot, you damn well better put it up when the ball is in your hands. There was a chance I would get a look, but with CJ making the decision, I knew the ball wasn't coming my way. I would have done the same thing if I was in his shoes so I can't really blame him.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>CJ Watson</u></b>: James Johnson switched on to me and I liked that match up. To tell you the truth, I hate the guy. He was always playing pranks with our toothbrushes on road trips last year. He's a real asshole. He's always jacked up to play us and was treating this game like Game 7 of the NBA Finals. I wanted to beat him with a nice crossover. I knew I could.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>Luol Deng</u></b>: Jose [Calderon] switched on to me when JJ picked up CJ. That turned out to be a pretty big development.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>Carlos Boozer</u></b>: I'm not eating without hot sauce.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>Kyle Korver</u></b>: I watched CJ attempt a fadeaway over JJ, who is like, five or six inches taller than him. I knew it wasn't going to end well. I even removed my mouthpiece thinking the game was over. 'We just lost to the Toronto Raptors,' I thought. 'Ain't that some shit.'</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>John Lucas III</u></b>: CJ put that shot up and I couldn't believe he didn't float it more. I know he's a bit taller than I am, but c'mon man. You gotta throw that thing way up there and give it a chance. Come to think, if that was me, we would have lost the game. I would have at least hit the rim. John Lucas has never airballed a shot. [<i>Editor's Note: CJ Watson's shot was partially blocked by James Johnson</i>]</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>Coach Thibs</u></b>: GUAH WOOF RATATA AJFDLGHAOD AHDOAHDG GHAOGHAIJIAJDNCVAHE </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>Luol Deng</u></b>: God bless Jose Calderon. I have no idea what he was thinking. For some reason, he decided to jump backwards at put his hand up for the block like <i>that</i> was going to make a difference. He left me all alone to corral the rebound and I just let it go as fast as I could. I didn't even know if I got it off in time.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>Kyle Korver</u></b>: Pure elation. It's nice to get a win when you've already resigned yourself to a loss.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>Carlos Boozer</u></b>: You've seen me play. I enjoy celebrating athletic exploits whether I've taken part in them or not. I just started yelling 'Dunk that shit' because it felt right. I knew it didn't apply in that situation, but it still felt right.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>John Lucas III</u></b>: I found Luol and jumped on his shoulders. He didn't even feel me there, I don't think.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>CJ Watson</u></b>: I was extremely pleased with the way I was able to create and get our team the victory.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><b><u>Coach Thibs</u></b>: I spent our off days locked in a Motel 6 with nothing but a 2 liter bottle of mineral water and a large bag of Smartfood popcorn. Lesson learned. I won't be drawing up out-of-bounds plays in that sort of environment ever again.</div>Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-2659512526847419682012-03-22T11:10:00.002-07:002012-03-22T11:24:39.236-07:00Bo Knows, What Exactly?<blockquote class="twitter-tweet tw-align-center"><p>I want to congratulate wisconsin's mvp, the refs.(especially anthony jordan).Vandy had no answer for you</p>— Jay Cutler (@JayCutler6) <a href="https://twitter.com/JayCutler6/status/181199041286246400" data-datetime="2012-03-18T02:03:12+00:00">March 18, 2012</a></blockquote><script src="//platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script><br />
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It's that time of the year again when I dedicate one post to Wisconsin men's basketball. Over the years I've come to enjoy their brand of basketball, much in the same way that others enjoy glaring at the mangled wreckage of a car accident or clicking on that YouTube video of a bear collapsing from a tree to a trampoline after taking a tranquilizer dart to the neck. I just can't look away. If every other year is any indication, this season is going to end badly, to the point where I'll feel embarrassed for even caring. Twenty percent shooting from the field, 48 total points, 15-point loss, nothing is off limits for the Badgers when it comes to losing an important game in spectacularly bad fashion. To use an NBA analogy, picture your team as a perennial 4 or 5 seed in the Eastern Conference. They finish every season with about 50 wins, either win in the first round of the playoffs (or put up a good fight losing), and then get smashed by a superior team in the second round. Every year. The consistency, lack of down years, consecutive playoff appearances is great, but your team is never a contender. This is the dilemma Badger fans, some of us anyway, struggle with every year; is it better to be a consistently <i>good</i> team or trade in some of those good years for down years if it means occasionally fielding a <i>great</i> team?<br />
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The tweet above, courtesy of former Vanderbilt quarterback Jay Cutler, was more entertaining than anything that happened in Wisconsin's 60-57 victory over Vanderbilt in the round of 32. 'Boring' is the most popular adjective used to describe the Badgers and only the most defensive of fans would disagree. Which is why Cutler's tweet struck so many people as funny. Why Cutler, who even called a ref out by name, or anybody else would even care about a Wisconsin-Vanderbilt game is beyond the neutral observer. So what, they're playing to lose to Syracuse? This matters why? It matters because Wisconsin and Vanderbilt are two schools who can never reasonably expect to advance further than the Sweet 16. This <i>was</i> the national championship for both schools, and Cutler reacted accordingly.<br />
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Every year around tournament time another writer wants to schoomze up to Bo Ryan. They write about how he doesn't get the national recognition he deserves, his team's sparkling home record, and how quietly, he's one of the winningest coaches in college basketball. Ryan isn't mentioned with the Izzos, the Krzyzewskis, the Williams, and the Boeheims because he has had nowhere near the tournament success they have. In Ryan's 11 years with Wisconsin he has taken his team to the NCAA tournament every year. Remarkable when considering the history, or lack thereof, of this program. Five Round of 32 appearances, four Sweet 16s, one first round loss, and only one Elite 8. No Final Fours. Back to the same old question: does at least one guaranteed tournament win every year outweigh the fact Wisconsin is never able to make a deep tournament run? Some concede Wisconsin will never be a basketball powerhouse and are happy this program is having any success at all. Others aren't satisfied with being a great regular season team and a mediocre tournament team. And really, both sides can present convincing arguments. It does seem like cruel a joke, however, that Dick Bennett, Ryan's predecessor, coached for five up-and-down years, culminating in a Final Four appearance in 2000, his last full season on the bench.<br />
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So Wisconsin and Syracuse play tonight. Fab Melo is out. I have never seen Fab Melo play, but I don't underestimate what a loss to a key player can do to a team psychologically, even if said team is littered with talented players, as is the case with Syracuse. Wisconsin lost Brian Butch to an elbow injury before the 2007 tournament and completely unraveled. That team had Final Four talent and probably should have lost to 15-seed Texas A&M - Corpus Christi before succumbing to UNLV. Syracuse plays a 2-3 Zone and Wisconsin has five players on the floor at any given time that can shoot the three respectably. All five shooters are either hot or cold at the same time. Intrigue. We all know how difficult it is to rebound out of a zone and Syracuse certainly had their troubles against Kansas State. Should Wisconsin track down some offensive rebounds, they'll be able to drain even more time off the clock and limit Syracuse's possessions. Those will be the two keys to the game: Syracuse's rebounding and Wisconsin's three point-shooting. On paper, this looks like the best possible matchup and timing Wisconsin could have asked for to face a No. 1 seed. Davidson in 2008 and Butler last year looked like pretty favorable Sweet 16 matchups too. <i>*runs head first into a brick wall* </i> <br />
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I'm the Badger fan on the side of the fence that expects them to do more. Part of this, I admit, is because I was not around during the dark years. I'd probably feel different if I'd watched them miss the tournament for 45! straight years. I don't particularly like college basketball and especially don't like 34-second possessions, but familiarity did not breed contempt in my case. Winning basketball games if more fun than Wisconsin's style of play and that is something I think all Badger fans have come to accept. There is a certain beauty to watching Bo Ryan's teams though. Five players playing without a set position, all five getting the most out of their abilities, taking care of the ball, rotating on defense perfectly, frustrating the hell out of more talented opposition, etc. The 'fun' things about this team are the fundamental aspects of the game that most fans either aren't aware of or pay no attention to. You'd convince yourself of the previous sentence too if Wisconsin was your alma mater.<br />
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While the swing offense is ideally suited to a 30-game regular season, it tends to be a hindrance in tournament play. The swing offense is built around milking the clock for about 30 seconds before finding an open shot. Sometimes there will be an open shot and sometimes Jordan Taylor will be one-on-one jacking up a fadeaway three. In the swing offense the only bad possession is a missed shot that doesn't take time off the clock. It is a system predicated on making less mistakes than your opponent (not turning the ball over, shooting a high percentage from the free throw line). The problem is, in a win-or-go-home tournament, there is no room for an off shooting night. An off shooting night gets a team sent home and it is almost impossible to put together six straight good shooting nights while running the swing offense. Maybe three or four, but not six. When that off night comes in the third or fourth game, Wisconsin is up against an opponent they can not afford to waste possessions against -- and wasting possessions is a big key to their success.<br />
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I can't look away. My fault and nobody else's. <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/671AgW9xSiA" width="420"></iframe>Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-38733176545819824672012-03-20T16:53:00.000-07:002012-03-20T16:53:49.366-07:00Derrick Rose: Demigod or Child?<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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Derrick Rose broke his week-long silence to the press yesterday. Not surprisingly, the topic of his 25K fine for criticizing the officials and his more vocal demeanor this season came up. <a href="http://www.slamonline.com/online/nba/2012/03/derrick-rose-thinks-refs-treat-him-like-a-little-kid-%E2%80%A6-or-a-demigod/">From SLAM Online via ESPN</a>:<br />
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<blockquote class="tr_bq"><i>'[The fans] still look at me as a little kid,' he said with a laugh. 'A little kid or ... I don't know how you would say it, like a demigod or something like that, where I can't say anything, man. For me to say something (about the officials), you know that I had to be thinking it. It's been four years; I was just frustrated at the time...'</i></blockquote><br />
You're probably thinking -- "little kid" and "demigod" -- those two things are nothing alike, and you'd be right. They are nothing alike and serve as perfect foils for the complicated way Bulls fans view Rose. On the one hand, Rose will forever be thought of as the humble and shy Chicago kid who couldn't have looked more uncomfortable speaking to reporters. The kid who needs to be coddled and protected into adulthood the same way his brothers did for him growing up. Then there's Rose the basketball player who, seemingly every night, makes an impossibly difficult basketball move look routine. Sometimes these highlights aren't even basketball plays in the traditional sense because Rose is the only player who could pull them off. We watch in awe and believe wholeheartedly that he can accomplish whatever he wants to out there, often describing him in otherworldly terms. The thing about demigods is, they know they're badasses. They're going to show how much of a badass they are, and then remind the refs lest they forget.<br />
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Bulls fans are still trying to reconcile these two competing ideas of Rose. The 'humble superstar' is an appealing and novel idea, just not very realistic. With his maturation as a person and player, Rose acknowledges his inability to live up to his carefully crafted image -- an image he probably feels costs him some free throws because he's not in the ref's ear from the opening whistle.<br />
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In a rare instance where he didn't speak in cliches, Derrick Rose, in unintentionally hilarious fashion, gave us a glimpse into the life of a city and basketball team's favorite son. That is to say, those who can do no wrong usually want to do wrong once in a while. He's sick of hearing about his sheepish nature, and seeing as it is not a tangible basketball skill, we should be too.Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-52037497074422772122012-03-14T11:19:00.000-07:002012-03-14T11:19:14.462-07:00Monta Ellis Is Going To Love MilwaukeeThe Warriors have traded Monta Ellis, along with Ekpe Udoh and Kwame Brown to the Bucks for Andrew Bogut and former-Warrior Stephen Jackson. As Bulls fans, we know none of these trades are going to involve our team, and thus, are left with rooting for the most potentially hilarious combinations for other teams. This deal fits the bill. Monta Ellis and Brandon Jennings are going to be great for each other. They're going to take turns launching fadeaway 20-footers over 6'7 defenders. They're going to be responsible for a broken blood vessel on Scott Skiles' face the first minute they try to play defense together. They're even going to invent something -- a handshake or pregame celebration -- which no one besides them understands. Scott Skiles just had another brain aneurysm thinking about what hasn't happened yet.<br />
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Skiles, <a href="http://therenaissancefan.blogspot.com/2012/03/scott-skiles-twisted-abode.html">the one dwelling in the fiery pits of hell</a>, is finally rid of his oft-injured center. He inherits Kwame Brown, another former no. 1 overall pick who shouldn't have been the no. 1 overall pick. Brown is also injured and likely out for the season, but unlike Bogut, is more effective while sitting on the bench. Epke Udoh figures to be the saving grace of this deal for Milwaukee. Pray for him.<br />
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MONTA: Yo Chuck, we did it! I've finally been traded. We getting the hell outta here. Contender! Say it with me. Don't think I forgot about you, Chuck. I'm going to a contender and I'm taking you with me. You're going to be the biggest name security guard out there. They'll know our names, Chuck, in whichever big city we end up in.<br />
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CHUCK: Umm about that...<br />
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MONTA: What is it? Where are we going, Chuck? LA? Chicago?<br />
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CHUCK: The location ain't important yo. We're going to a...a potential playoff team.<br />
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MONTA: <i>[very serious now] </i>Where are we going, Chuck?<br />
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CHUCK: Milwaukee.<br />
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MONTA: ....<br />
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CHUCK: You're going to play with Young Money and that James Franco-looking mother fucker.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNZ00AiURY-A3w0BiixHgYf8r8HfdQ-ZeHpPzjhYIQR4J-cltxim4bYiWipdok8yv1a7G9O0GDQxni9SA3K4CutdzgDeqIxhQv_iD48NmE8mtDZ_Va9ynnSqpdMf80j8ahxGuldKYiFXvt/s1600/Monta+Ellis+Milwaukee.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNZ00AiURY-A3w0BiixHgYf8r8HfdQ-ZeHpPzjhYIQR4J-cltxim4bYiWipdok8yv1a7G9O0GDQxni9SA3K4CutdzgDeqIxhQv_iD48NmE8mtDZ_Va9ynnSqpdMf80j8ahxGuldKYiFXvt/s400/Monta+Ellis+Milwaukee.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Monta is going to love it there.</div>Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-55426310123504154962012-03-12T09:06:00.000-07:002012-03-12T09:06:31.091-07:00The Jeremy Lin Q & A With Bob Dylan<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"The Answer My Friend, Is Blowin' Lin The Wind."</td></tr>
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>What are your thoughts on Jeremy Lin, Bob? Linsanity. He's causing quite a stir in the States, we hear.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Linsanity? Linsanity? C'mon man. I don't know anything about a Linsanity, man. Would you ask The Beatles that question.? Well, would you?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>I'm genuinely curious. The people in London have been fascinated by this story. We've never heard anything like it. Who would you liken Lin's rise to?</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Jeremy Lin moved at his own speed, man. He rolled down the broad highway as the milkmen were sleeping. He built the machine too and by the time everyone figured it out they wanted to know his secret. And he was using the same tools that the artist before him neglected. It was more about what the free mind could see.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Many basketball fans have been skeptical of Lin's impressive numbers. Is there any way he can keep up this production?</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Could Ezra Pound write couplets? Or better, would the blind man volunteer to scorch Ezra's lawn with his own rake. Men will chase the flashing lights in the distance, given the beauty of the light. Only to find out the light is the spark of the rifle and the rifle is the Bill of Rights.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>How much of Linsanity can be attributed to his race? Does race play a factor in the way we perceive an athlete's ability to succeed?</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Does it matter if the spaceship is Russian? Would you soak your father's boots in communist waters? The young virgin will unknowingly pick the poisonous flowers as the horrified audience looks on. It's all worthless, man. It's made up is what it is. We've all been fooled and the biggest dupes are those sitting alone in a dark room with the pillow over their heads.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>Is Jeremy Lin really an underdog? He's been on an NBA roster the last two years and is an Ivy League graduate. His is not the typical profile of the down-and-out.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No one thought Fidel Castro could do it either. People want to see it one way and then are unable to see it the other. Age is a fixed race. Experience is cruise control. In Cambridge, do you think Jeremy Lin did what they always said? Take this test, take that one, and meet this recruiter, you'll need to know his name when you graduate. You'll need to drink the water without the sugar. He still found a way to hoist up 500 jump shots. The most difficult tests are the ones without a time limit.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>What role has the media played in the shaping of Lin's narrative? What has this story revealed about the power of the media?</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The downtrodden shake hands with the curious youth and are still not fit to wash the politician's hands. Rivers of blood appear red when your loved ones trudge through puddles to get to work. I'd leave with her but I'd also leave without her, not wanting to hurt her, of course. Judgement is bestowed upon everyone. It depends on whom you place the label of "God." Pass that man his umbrella. It's raining and he hasn't a jacket.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>How would you characterize the American public's reaction to Lin?</i> <i> </i> <i> </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>What else is there to write about, man. Who are you with anyway? You're just buying your time. Waiting for <i>Time Magazine</i> or the <i>Washington Post</i> to call.<br />
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<i>You think lowly of me and my profession, I see. I'll have you know I work very hard at my craft. </i><br />
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That very well may be, man. Don't let me deter you. You can be whatever you want to be. I believe you. You can conversate with Shakespeare in a New Orleans cafe while wearing a three-piece suit. I'm sure the deer and the antelope will be impressed with your stapler and your no. 2 pencil. Allen Ginsberg would hate you, man. Have you ever even known a real poet, man? A poet who recognizes the faulty logic of the moving sky?<br />
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<i>Do you think Lin will ever be able to coexist with Amar'e and Carmelo?</i><br />
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Geese never fly alone. I've skimmed through the Bible, you know. I've thrown a baseball off the tallest building. I've shoveled dirty snow. Jeremy Lin needs the time and respect only present in his mind. He needs to find the elusive Allen wrench and tune the water clock. When he completes that everything should fall into place. He'll sing songs to the oak trees and pass the golden staff to his grandfather.Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-86865354332306857712012-03-08T09:46:00.000-08:002012-03-08T09:46:39.643-08:00Chocolate Shoulders<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="300" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/I41RDu7e4S4" width="450"></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Somehow this went virtually unnoticed during the 2011 All-Star festivities. Playful, yet unsettling metonymy or: </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Raymond Felton is figuring out a way to get Dwight to Portland. It's the hardest he's worked in years.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-48571875869404671062012-03-06T22:30:00.000-08:002012-03-06T22:30:12.456-08:00Scott Skiles' Twisted Abode<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfJGM-w-Z9HY1cqp_Efn_PivVspi6Ir6jMj8e9aJpUiwxXqXNS65x1Bgwxd8q4dcxiyLZwR1NNosmO254EMhgdfmXrQtccdZkMkmlWrjfFk1_UuQl1CRRRkZzv6Lh0OL1HJEYmnZa3fmFG/s1600/Scott+Skiles+and+Tom+Thibodeau.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfJGM-w-Z9HY1cqp_Efn_PivVspi6Ir6jMj8e9aJpUiwxXqXNS65x1Bgwxd8q4dcxiyLZwR1NNosmO254EMhgdfmXrQtccdZkMkmlWrjfFk1_UuQl1CRRRkZzv6Lh0OL1HJEYmnZa3fmFG/s400/Scott+Skiles+and+Tom+Thibodeau.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">SKILES: WELCOME TO THE FIERY PITS!! STONES HOT ENOUGH TO BURN A HOLE THROUGH BOGEY'S SURGICALLY REPAIRED ANKLE!! THIS IS WHERE I CALL HOME!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">THIBS: Well I'll be...Milwaukee was never much, but it sure has went to shit recently.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">SKILES: MILWAUKEE? NO, TOMMY!! THIS IS HELL!! STONES HOT ENOUGH TO GRILL YOUR OFT-INJURED CENTER OVER!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><i>THIBS surveys the area. He admires each worker's efficiency. They all appear to have specific tasks, odd jobs -- so to speak; all of which they are executing to perfection. </i> </div><br />
THIBS: I've never seen an operation run so smoothly.<br />
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SKILES: THE GUYS DOWN HERE KNOW A THING OR TWO ABOUT WORK ETHIC. THEIR SPIRITS HAVE BEEN BROKEN. THEY PUT THEIR HEADS DOWN, GET TO WORK, AND WAIT FOR THE END THAT IS NEVER GOING TO COME. NO BULLSHIT. NO COMPLAINTS.<br />
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THIBS: Sounds morbid.<br />
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SKILES: SOUNDS LIKE A DAMN GOOD BASKETBALL TEAM. GIVE ME 12 OF THESE GUYS AND I'D WORK WONDERS. HAMSTRING TEAR? THAT'S A SUCCESSFUL DAY IN THE FIERY PITS.<br />
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THIBS: Players today think the game is about them. They fail to realize they are replaceable pieces, only there to act out our vision.<br />
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SKILES: YE---<br />
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THIBS: Except Derrick. Derrick is not replaceable.<br />
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SKILES: YESS!! REMINDS ME OF A FAMOUS QUOTE FROM MY BIGGEST COACHING INSPIRATION, SIR ALFRED HITCHCOCK. HE SAID ACTORS SHOULD BE TREATED LIKE CATTLE.<br />
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THIBS: Yeah, OK. In a roundabout way, I kinda see where you're going--<br />
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SKILES: HE ALSO SAID 'GIVE THEM PLEASURE,' THEM BEING THE AUDIENCE, 'THE SAME PLEASURE THEY HAVE WHEN THEY WAKE UP FROM A NIGHTMARE.'<br />
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THIBS: .....<br />
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SKILES: NO ONE ENJOYS MILWAUKEE BUCKS GAMES. I TAKE GREAT PRIDE IN THIS!!! THE BUCKS HAVE NOT BEEN FUN TO WATCH FOR OVER A DECADE!!<br />
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THIBS: Are you OK, Scotty? Is the pressure getting to you?<br />
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<i>SKILES lifts up from the table. His face is covered in cocaine.</i><br />
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SKILES: PRESSURE!? WHAT PRESSURE?! UNDER PRESSURE. DO DO DO DO DO DO DO DA DA. UNDER PRESSURE.<br />
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THIBS: You're starting to scare me. Your temples--they've exploded out of your head. They're just floating down a hot lava stream. Jesus, aren't you going to pick them up? Your eyes--they're next. I see the blood coursing through them. I can't be here for this. Where is the Bradley Center?<br />
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SKILES: <i>[to no one in particular] </i>ERSAN. ERSAAAAAAAAN. NOT THE DOUBLE SWITCH. NOT THE SADLHFAODFHAIDHFADJFLAD!!!!!!!!!!!!<br />
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<i>THIBS stares off into the distance. He notices a pile engulfed in flames, growing larger by the minute. Through the bright orange tint, THIBS makes out the dismembered head of Vinny Del Negro.</i><br />
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<i>THIBS lets out a terrified scream, the first time he's been scared since Derrick Rose rolled his ankle in last year's playoffs.</i><br />
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SKILES: MUAHAHAHAHA. I DID IT!! YES IT WAS ALL ME!! THE WORKERS DISPOSED OF THE BODY YOU WILL NEVER FIND IT. THAT SECOND-RATE SUNAVABITCH LUCKS INTO DERRICK AND THEN CP3. WHERE IS MY SUPERSTAR?! I NEVER SMILE. I CAN'T SMILE. STEPHEN JACKSON.<br />
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THIBS: Where is the body, Scotty? Vinny might not have know how to draw up an inbounds play, but goddamnit, he deserves a proper burial. That is the least we can give him.<br />
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SKILES: I'LL NEVER TELL.<br />
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THIBS: How about we play for it?<br />
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SKILES: Continue.<br />
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THIBS: We have a game tomorrow, right? So we play for it. I'll spot you 20 points. I win by more than 20 and you tell me where the body is. You lose by less than 20 and the motherfucker burns.<br />
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SKILES: DEAL.<br />
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<i>The two shake on it.</i><br />
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THIBS: Now tell me how to get out of here and back to Milwaukee.<br />
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SKILES: SOMEONE ONCE TOLD ME THAT EVERY MINUTE A MURDER OCCURS, SO I DON'T WANT TO WASTE YOUR TIME, I KNOW YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO WORK. MUAHAHAHAHAHA MUAHAHAHAHAHAHA<br />
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<i>THIBS walks in the opposite direction and asks the nearest slave laborer where the exit is. The slave laborer points him towards an elevator 56 miles east. THIBS begins his solitary journey and contemplates the evening's matchup. This is more than a potential 33nd regular season victory. This is about sending a man off honorably.</i>Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-40622794845955108652012-03-05T09:18:00.000-08:002012-10-22T13:41:30.015-07:00The Mighty Derrickles, Road Warrior<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Brooding on the sidelines, a dark and lonely inhabitant of the aptly-titled Underworld, Douganos Collins watched as his men squandered away a fourth quarter lead. "Underworld" his coaching mentors called it, better known as "NBA Purgatory," is where Douganos finds himself. He is struck with the realization that his men, though spirits high and judgement swift, do not possess the strengths of one thousand NBA Champions. This is what he lives for, for this very moment, to take a group, many of whom were discarded by the previous regime, and have them competing with the best. Douganos is no idiot. He understands the limitations of his men. He pleads with them to get out and run, fearing the contest will become a half-court game -- a game he knows his men are unequipped to win. </div>
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Douganos favors his point guard Jruedeus. In Jruedeus he sees himself. A dedicated young man, willing to put the team on his back for stretches, and a man who possesses no conscience. Any shot is a good one and any shot can fall given the right balance of skill and determination. For all his offensive exploits, Jruedeus lacks size and defensive valor. He fronts his opponent but is unable to alter his desired path. He withstands the crushing blows presented by cross screens but eventually relents. Douganos has to do something. The game is getting away from him. He admires Jruedeus' heart in the face of adversity, but can stick with him no longer. It is time to make a change.</div>
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Douganos reaches back into the depths of his memory. He remembers his decorated collegiate career, Illinois State Redbirds in the faraway town of Normal, a town that was anything but. He still checks up on his former university, in fact, they named their gymnasium after him, the only such Division I university gymnasium named after a former player. Douganos recollects the 1972 Olympics in which his men were robbed of their gold bounty. The bad taste never left his mouth. Some lifetimes later in Normal, they revealed a statue of him and his former mentor, coach Will Robinson. The statue looked most unsavory when viewed at the right angle. Some might say it was built in the Greek tradition.</div>
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Douganos knows his past glories count for very little in the current NBA landscape. A man's prestige is only worth what he has done the previous day. His mentors warned him of the coach's life -- the sleepless nights, the stress upon familial relations, and gradual loss of one's mental faculties. It was not a life for everyone, and had led many great men to their early graves. Douganos willingly accepts the possible side affects. He simply loves coaching too much to ever leave it behind. He once lived a life of leisure, providing simpleton analysis for the dolts watching at home. The job was pleasurable and afforded him the opportunity to stay close to the game he loved, but the job was not coaching. Nothing was. He knew one day he would return, and return he did to Philadelphyus. </div>
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Douganos sits helpless as the mighty warrior Derrickles carves up his defense. Douganos' past success, three straight wins against Derrickles, worries him. He knows the humble warrior to be of keen memory. Surely Derrickles will find it within himself to bring a little extra to this battle. And then the idea dawns on him. Yes, yes, that is it! That was it all along! Douganos calls timeout and rallies his men.</div>
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"MEN," he shouts. "We shall commence a new strategy. Thadysseus, Andronis, Evanthea, come forth!"</div>
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The three men, Douganos' boldest defenders, step forward, welcoming the task at hand.</div>
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"I need you three to blanket the mighty Derrickles. What say you?"</div>
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"YAY," the three defenders chomp in unison. </div>
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"Very well then. CERBERUS COMMENCE!"</div>
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On Douganos' word, Thadysseus, Andronis, and Evanthea morph into one hellish creature. Their body becomes that of a maddened hound and their tale a poisonous serpent. </div>
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"It is your duty to protect our basket," instructs Douganos. "Now GET!"</div>
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The beast unleashes its fury all over the court. Derrickles is powerless, forced to give the ball up to his teammates. His teammates, though well-seasoned and supremely confident, lack the composure of Derrickles. They turn the ball over and take bad shots. Douganos lets out a bellowing laugh. I've done it, he thinks to himself. I've reenacted the strategy many have used before me. But THIS! No one has seen anything like THIS!</div>
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Douganos rests on his good fortune. He possesses three men, all 6'7 or taller, athletic, with long wingspans and quick feet, who can combine and make battle difficult for Derrickles. He knows no other team possesses the resources he does. Two players, yes maybe, but not THREE. The lead once 13 points in Derrickles' favor, has now dwindled to two thanks to the effort of Douganos' three-headed monster.</div>
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91-89. 37 seconds left. Derrickles dribbles the ball at the top of the key, milking the game clock. Douganos' beast lurks. Evanthea had been inexplicably discarded. The beast, Thadysseus and Andronis, stand alone. They force Derrickles left, his weaker side. Derrickles progresses undeterred into the lane and leaps with the grace of a spotted tiger. Thadysseus and Andronis have been left behind, the job of basket protection now lies squarely on the shoulders of their teammate, Eltonia. Once a feared warrior in his day, Eltonia no longer inspires fear as he did in his youth. Derrickles contorts his body midair, as only the truly battle-tested can, and floats a shot with his right hand over the outstretched arm of Eltonia. The shot is good! The most beautiful of songs ring out from the gymnasium sky and a single phoenix perches itself on the top of the backboard. The remaining seconds become a free-throw shooting contest of little regard. 96-91 Derrickles.</div>
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On his way back to his battle gathering, the normally stoic Derrickles lets out a beaming smile. He relishes in the victory the Gods have bestowed upon him. On the other side, Douganos rests his head in his hands, grief-stricken. He longs for the day he gets another chance. "Derrickles must fall," he tells his men. Even his three-headed beast has failed him. What more could he have done?</div>
Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-34083963920304525412012-03-01T07:47:00.000-08:002012-03-01T07:47:46.887-08:00Some Ideas For Joakim Noah's Second Tweet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF9FA654CoaPGpdyboCpVONQmA7UYPiKNl_kSUFI0SjCnsTtXDyu7HnSLrVW_y3LIguM07n-KcTRz0kRXh40IrV24akUKmRLZ7A-pa8GSouLEWdszjtA6B84Rg1xBcgtweTYrftlC7tmEz/s1600/Joakim+Noah+General+Tso.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF9FA654CoaPGpdyboCpVONQmA7UYPiKNl_kSUFI0SjCnsTtXDyu7HnSLrVW_y3LIguM07n-KcTRz0kRXh40IrV24akUKmRLZ7A-pa8GSouLEWdszjtA6B84Rg1xBcgtweTYrftlC7tmEz/s400/Joakim+Noah+General+Tso.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Joakim Noah joined Twitter last week very unceremoniously. Word slowly trickled out and at the time of me writing this, Noah had amassed just over 18 thousand followers. His profile reads "Stick stickity" and he has composed a single tweet, simply reading: "General Tso." This is the out-of-context babble that has fueled so many funny Twitter accounts over the years. What is General Tso? The chicken, one assumes, or could Joakim be a Chinese military history buff? We'll never know because athletes do not have to explain tweets unless they are offensive. It's better that way to leave some things up to the imagination.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Noah has been one of the few players the basketball fans on Twitter have been clamoring for. He's a weird guy, weird enough that he'd probably have something interesting to say. And unpredictable, as in inventing a new and elaborate form of celebration midway through the season for no reason whatsoever. His Twitter ceiling is somewhere between Gilbert Arenas-like tangents and accidentally tweeting a picture of his weed a la Micheal Beasley. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"General Tso." has stood alone since February 22, making it a full week since Joakim last tweeted. At this point, his account seems like a cruel trick meant to squash every last bit of anticipation we had for this day. Noah may never decide to tweet again, in which case, his experiment would still be a strange success, but if he does, here are some possible ideas for his second tweet.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Looking like une petite fete. How u</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Breakfast Burrito. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Just complimented Thibs on his polo shirt. He made me run suicides.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Gator Boyz!!! Go see Ahmad at 7th and 112</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">@KingJames</span> Nice All star game bro lol</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">@KingJames</span> <span style="color: #b45f06;">@DwyaneWade</span> <span style="color: #b45f06;">@chrisbosh</span> Ya'll looking real Hollywood from where i'm tweeting</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The vengeance was mine. the pleasure was all mine.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Subway Fresh Fit Meal.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">If i'm stopped at a Traffic light, can I be a traffic cone?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Six steps. One step. red step blue step</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We caught John Lucas napping. <span style="color: #b45f06;">twitpic.com/1o8y9</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hey, I just added you to my Mafia family. You should accept my invitation! :) Click here: <span style="color: #b45f06;">http://pmw.es/1se87</span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://a2.twimg.com/profile_images/1688144305/IMG_0214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://a2.twimg.com/profile_images/1688144305/IMG_0214.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
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SOAKING WET. RT <span style="color: #b45f06;">@swirsk054:</span> Noah bringing out the guns and they are WET<br />
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Pop pop pop booyakasha<br />
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Stop. Just Stop. Like They'd Trade Me.<br />
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Fine thanks for asking. RT <span style="color: #b45f06;">@JimmyRunsTrains</span>: How's your sister doing?<br />
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You're spiritual plain. Get on my spiritual plane.<br />
<br />
the real poet remains calm and lies within us.<br />
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Haha i just autographed me third pair of tits. TODAY<br />
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Only u can hold u back. It broke the camel's straw after all.<br />
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Malted Milk.<br />
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Ima keep shooting.<br />
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John lucas throws up some funny looking shots. RT <span style="color: #b45f06;">@ChiBullsRox23</span>: Who's the funniest guy on the team?<br />
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These were awful. RT <span style="color: #b45f06;">@RenaissanceFan</span>: Some Ideas For <span style="color: #b45f06;">@JoakimNoah</span> Second Tweet <span style="color: #b45f06;">therenaissanefan.blogspot.com/...</span>Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-87419901441248157942012-02-29T09:59:00.000-08:002012-02-29T09:59:30.201-08:00Great Moments In Troll History: Rose Says 'No' To Big Macs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnr6Nh68LtgV3gnG6xSjQpeMt2sBLNN_kxlXVu4IvQ37cIGrv327F9eiG4CqU1tK9Xl6zAPFmA59UMIYatmVj266LOnuqBiNGzh_zRtp_uk5lD13Fmxe_zEVwbF2ICJiyQRLa-EeLVfEO/s1600/D.+Rose+Big+Macs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitnr6Nh68LtgV3gnG6xSjQpeMt2sBLNN_kxlXVu4IvQ37cIGrv327F9eiG4CqU1tK9Xl6zAPFmA59UMIYatmVj266LOnuqBiNGzh_zRtp_uk5lD13Fmxe_zEVwbF2ICJiyQRLa-EeLVfEO/s400/D.+Rose+Big+Macs.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">One Big Mac - ~$3.49</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Average Bulls Ticket - $66</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Rose's New Adidas Deal - 14-years worth up to 260 Million</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Letting the air out of 20 thousand people legitimately excited to save three bucks and change - PRICELESS</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The better your team, the longer the regular season seems to drag, especially for a team like the Bulls on the cusp of a Finals appearance. Truthfully, there is nothing, save for three more games against Miami, that will tell us anything new about this team. The season begins in the Eastern Conference Finals; the rest is just satisfying filler. In a slow-moving season, where the Bulls return almost an identical team and will win a ridiculous percentage of their games, it is necessary to cling to the peculiarities. Luol Deng's mohawk, CJ Watson's beard, Carlos Boozer's spray-on hair -- all inconsequential details that serve the purpose of breaking up the monotony surrounding the team. Mike James joins the team to a unexpected outpouring of support. Joakim Noah develops a new Finger-Gunz celebration. Derrick Rose sinks another game winner -- a <i>different</i> game winner. Anything to pass the time until mid-May.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Another such peculiarity occurred in yesterday's 99-95 Bulls win. In what looked to be the makings of a fourth quarter blowout, the Hornets clawed back and actually took a four-point lead with 1:25 to play. Derrick Rose did Derrick Rose things to push the Bulls back into a four-point lead with ten seconds left. The Hornets turned the ball over on their last possession and rather than let the time run out and take the loss, Jarrett Jack inexplicably prolonged the sting of a hard-fought loss by fouling Rose with four seconds left. Rose needed to convert only one of his two free throws to give the Bulls 100 points and the fans free Big Macs.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Big Mac cheers are something everyone is a little sick of, on par with Kingisms and Scalabrine chants. Giving away free food as a way to entice people to show up seemed like a viable plan when Ron Mercer and Eddie Robinson were big free agent draws. It's an outdated promotional tool. The Bulls are one of the best two or three best teams in the NBA, have one of the league's top-five players, and practically are guaranteed to win at home. There shouldn't need to be any incentive to get people to show up to games. Nevertheless, the Big Mac thing has cemented itself as a UC tradition and isn't going anywhere. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For a little context, Rose had made all nine of his free throw attempts before the Jack foul, including seven in the fourth quarter. He was shooting 82 percent from the line going into the Hornets game. Averages would tell you he'd miss BOTH free throw attempts to keep in line with his season average. One miss maybe, but two appeared unlikely. He clanked the first free throw, to add drama, we all figured. Then he clanked the second. The crowd reacted like the Bulls had lost and slowly exited, heads down, aiming to purchase their own disgusting 30-grams-of-fat from the nearest McDonald's. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">With this performance, Derrick Rose carved out his spot in "Great Moments in Troll History." He performed to the highest level, took over the game down the stretch, did just enough to secure the win, but not enough to secure the coma-inducing slop. Hey, people need to be alive to buy his shoes. He knows this. An impressive feat all around. In any other season, this moment would qualify as a blip on the radar. In 2012, as the Bulls chug their way to the playoffs and us fans are spoiled with wins, this moment qualifies as memorable.</div>Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-25196312704741504232012-02-27T11:04:00.000-08:002012-02-27T11:04:49.032-08:00The Dunks They Should Have DoneThe 2012 Dunk Contest marks the first time in history basketball fans have agreed on something. The people have spoken and the <strike>Ciroc</strike> Sprite-sponsored event was a colossal failure. Fans have rightly complained about the unnecessary pageantry of the whole thing, dependence on props, and the general lack of creativity. Some have already dubbed it the worst Dunk Contest of all-time and would rather see the event scrapped altogether.<br />
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I like the Dunk Contest. Vince Carter in 2000 made me fall in love with the event. The same unbridled joy I experienced as a 13-year-old is what I want for this generation. Older folks remember Spud Webb, or the Jordan-Dominique duel. My generation has Vince Carter. Maybe Blake Griffin jumping over a Kia qualifies, I don't know, but I believe players can do better. I'm disappointed this year's contest turned out poorly, so naturally, I have some suggestions. The ideas from this year's participants were there. They slightly failed from an execution standpoint. A wrinkle here and a wrinkle there and we're talking about potentially the <i>greatest</i> Dunk Contest of all-time. These are the dunks they should have done.<br />
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<b><u>CHASE BUDINGER</u></b> <br />
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Chase Budinger's first dunk featured Diddy for no reason. The <i>White Men Can't Jump</i> concept was brilliant, only to be brought down by Diddy's antics. I know All-Star Weekend caters (or is trying to cater) to the same demographic as the BET Awards, but Diddy's inclusions was still puzzling. Aside from payed a shitload of money to plug his new television network, his appearance, and plea for the predominately white crowd to raise a fist for Black Power, got away from the theme. Budinger should have jumped over someone else for his first dunk -- the one and only Rosie Perez.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDeXW2o84u_NL8Tb5gc4_D2Av-xkpnRLR_fX2-R8bn_oPABI4NzahWdpWDTDE1iwPcBgNWR2MV7ofOeQ6mEdvZOhb_6tdYoIX-iLyEu239sIqye7Ohv0McFElzbXrC2eU_l-uEK_rXKR6o/s1600/Chase+Budinger+Dunk+Contest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDeXW2o84u_NL8Tb5gc4_D2Av-xkpnRLR_fX2-R8bn_oPABI4NzahWdpWDTDE1iwPcBgNWR2MV7ofOeQ6mEdvZOhb_6tdYoIX-iLyEu239sIqye7Ohv0McFElzbXrC2eU_l-uEK_rXKR6o/s400/Chase+Budinger+Dunk+Contest.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><br />
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Perez played Gloria, Woody Harrelson's girlfriend in <i>White Men Can't Jump</i> and is currently available for work. She's waiting around for <i>Law and Order</i> to call, why not make her part of the Dunk Contest? She still looks as good as she did in 1992. They could have dressed her up in an Orlando 2012 outfit or if they wanted to go the extra mile for their sponsors, splash a big Sprite logo across her breasts. VIEWERS WOULD NOTICE.<br />
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<b><u>JEREMY EVANS</u></b><br />
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Evans' second dunk was the event's best. Teammate Gordon Hayward sat on a chair and threw two balls in the air. Evans leaped over Hayward, caught both balls in mid-air and slammed them home. Great dunk but it could have been better. We've all known about Evans' supernatural leaping ability all-season, despite never having seen him play. This was the time to unleash his all-word hops. Instead, we saw him jump over a seated Hayward and 4'8 comedian Kevin Hart. Evans needed to do more here, but how could he?<br />
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Evans is a guy who can jump OUT of the gym. Under no circumstances should he be constrained by a stadium's parameters. He should have taken this one outside, right around the corner to Universal Studios.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGmXoXLJs3CaI1hXGx6QEdW0mFWprvjwRriHZ3V4_5koyUWnfHeXRJnuUhHb35PHsM_f7ZzzR0q6JvYUKP6b7CVY3G2r-18TdrZZ-OejygNtM7Th63imYEjxU55MfBuI7_Zht-d4Di5ec/s1600/Jeremy+Evans+Dunk+Contest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGmXoXLJs3CaI1hXGx6QEdW0mFWprvjwRriHZ3V4_5koyUWnfHeXRJnuUhHb35PHsM_f7ZzzR0q6JvYUKP6b7CVY3G2r-18TdrZZ-OejygNtM7Th63imYEjxU55MfBuI7_Zht-d4Di5ec/s400/Jeremy+Evans+Dunk+Contest.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Excellent sponsorship opportunity, a space to accommodate more fans, and most importantly, an obstacle that allows Evans to showcase his true leaping ability. What's not to like? Gordon Hayward will still have a place to sit and throw the balls up since it's sooooo important that a teammate be involved for one of the dunks.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u>PAUL GEORGE</u></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u><br />
</u></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">George was the early favorite to win the contest, and still could have, if not for a costly mistake. His tribute to Pacers' President of Basketball Operations Larry Bird was an excellent one. George stuck a sticker of Bird's face on the backboard with his left hand while following through with a right-handed dunk. He attempted this dunk third, but should have made it his second one. He needed to use the Bird sticker on his first try since he wasn't going to convert anyway. For his second try, instead of another sticker, George could have stuck a light switch on the backboard.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIWBnIQ0eXajr9ROjLgeaRvTYb7-3V8YLKAOlOhiaQoFpftWrNMtPln72iZAnktEb3hTnQ6hH373ePd6KmGfU42SDuIgednsicRQOwe0ZjUiidNnKa-ylpd5RaOjAD0LA68Urvx6m2ne2f/s1600/Paul+George+Dunk+Contest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIWBnIQ0eXajr9ROjLgeaRvTYb7-3V8YLKAOlOhiaQoFpftWrNMtPln72iZAnktEb3hTnQ6hH373ePd6KmGfU42SDuIgednsicRQOwe0ZjUiidNnKa-ylpd5RaOjAD0LA68Urvx6m2ne2f/s400/Paul+George+Dunk+Contest.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The light switch could have been a precursor to his glow-in-the dark dunk he then would have attempted third. George turns on the lights midway through his glow-in-the dark dunk so viewers could have actually seen it, as opposed to what we did see:</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi3JTU9GYsNYMjTmnjc6c_nKSb0ffviNdKG6WAbqk9f9KmHPVYCrx-p7mUKTgB2YQGh5u2FDsDfjQWVOm1ZoRjJln_mzJR0K2rVzYE8HUy2oy-kJGWwtS7-nXyjoHh3rr6pjMzarlO-OEX/s1600/Paul+George+Dunk+Contest+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi3JTU9GYsNYMjTmnjc6c_nKSb0ffviNdKG6WAbqk9f9KmHPVYCrx-p7mUKTgB2YQGh5u2FDsDfjQWVOm1ZoRjJln_mzJR0K2rVzYE8HUy2oy-kJGWwtS7-nXyjoHh3rr6pjMzarlO-OEX/s400/Paul+George+Dunk+Contest+2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u>DERRICK WILLIAMS</u></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><u><br />
</u></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Williams was the fourth name on a list the casual NBA fan couldn't pick out of a lineup. We all know the most popular participant has an advantage over his competitors. Blake Griffin won two years ago before the contest even started. Williams had a perfect opportunity to increase his name recognition and didn't seize it. His teammate Ricky Rubio has captured the imagination of basketball fans across the world. Williams needed to wear a Rubio mask to trick some of the voters.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiBPnu9ALRSbM6pDGTE49n1_bqaSSdsDpFN91_VBc1jfrQbwk3ANZoTZE8APnyXSL708WjNvZrkVn13KE-PpixERVmneUWTltMIX1vQ58knSbLPGetNuQUH0ORCTlRU2rkrna2VMbMSk6N/s1600/Derrick+Williams+Dunk+Contest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiBPnu9ALRSbM6pDGTE49n1_bqaSSdsDpFN91_VBc1jfrQbwk3ANZoTZE8APnyXSL708WjNvZrkVn13KE-PpixERVmneUWTltMIX1vQ58knSbLPGetNuQUH0ORCTlRU2rkrna2VMbMSk6N/s400/Derrick+Williams+Dunk+Contest.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Suddenly Williams is the favorite. The crowd gets behind him and we'd finally have the answer to the age-old question: What would it look like if Ricky Rubio threw a lob to a bigger Ricky Rubio? For good measure, Williams could have sported a Spanish gaucho hat and dunked while being chased by a bull -- thereby directing some of the ethnic humor away from Jeremy Lin for a while. Give the kid a rest. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The Dunk Contest is fine. Some tinkering here and there and we're back in business. We're still going to watch next year regardless. </div>Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-48815124912044866692012-02-22T19:36:00.000-08:002012-02-23T07:05:43.625-08:00Ersan Ilyasova Reprises His Starring Role<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It's been quite the stretch for Ersan Ilyasova, highlighted by a 29-point, 25-rebound effort on Sunday against the Nets. With increased playing time, Ilyasova has picked up some of the scoring slack and is now the Bucks' best rebounder by default thanks to another Andrew Bogut injury. The Bulls kept him in check all night, leaving his string of big games to disappear into the wind along with his once-promising acting career.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Most people have forgotten Ilyasova's short stint as Daniel Desario in the cult classic television show <i>Freaks and Geeks</i>. Ilyasova worked under the name "James Franco" and has since spawned a pretty successful career for a look-a-like who goes by the same name. Contrary to popular belief, Ilyasova did not write, or has at least denied any responsibility for the travesty known as <i><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Palo-Alto-Stories-James-Franco/dp/1439163146">Palo Alto: Stories</a></i>, now available on Amazon for as low as 73 cents. Here are some of Ilyasova's most memorable scenes from the short-lived comedy. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYpJ1JM8HFQsNQjQ2XsUaU6MKk21fum31eXO4zuWmROgWm_qQhES_o6WWsYmbGJrvj5XSS-_z-xanVLjJFXmogJlaTZ0ujIoCl5OtwB59p7I_Zd1oOioHOYi9licK5cR3RdI6ZTDbxd-hc/s1600/Ersan+Ilysova+Opening+Credits.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYpJ1JM8HFQsNQjQ2XsUaU6MKk21fum31eXO4zuWmROgWm_qQhES_o6WWsYmbGJrvj5XSS-_z-xanVLjJFXmogJlaTZ0ujIoCl5OtwB59p7I_Zd1oOioHOYi9licK5cR3RdI6ZTDbxd-hc/s320/Ersan+Ilysova+Opening+Credits.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<div style="text-align: left;"><i>"I don't give damn bout my reputation..."</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Da na na na na na na </i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>"Chuck up bad shot in any situation..."</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Da na na na na na na</i></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE_9ChYzt5tBj-Ox24y6hF8NQNAherHA70NRCVA05NuBzAlamGw9WqsvP3KMlJi50HN49KQ32fSsb4H_SAJ-oHyHQIvyJGiBjKNrM8VR-emzH-NXrWqVp0MNB5VKSYJkz1S0KcoA7NODsx/s1600/Ersan+Ilysova+Dungeons+and+Dragons.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE_9ChYzt5tBj-Ox24y6hF8NQNAherHA70NRCVA05NuBzAlamGw9WqsvP3KMlJi50HN49KQ32fSsb4H_SAJ-oHyHQIvyJGiBjKNrM8VR-emzH-NXrWqVp0MNB5VKSYJkz1S0KcoA7NODsx/s320/Ersan+Ilysova+Dungeons+and+Dragons.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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<br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><i>"Which am I? Dungeon or Dragon?</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>"No, Daniel. The name of the game is Dungeons and Dragons. Roll the dice to find out your ability score."</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>[Ersan rolls dice]</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>"Dwarf?!?! Daniel stands 6 feet and 10 inches tall. Daniel is no dwarf."</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>"Dwarfs are good. They can do a lot of things the big guys can't do. They're tough and really good at finding jewels.<br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i>"Jewels, you say? Fine. Daniel will be dwarf."</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="text-align: left;"><i><br />
</i></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoU64c-j-t1WkB9dTPMZsuCdSFG8Ncs8sJ_6bAk-rywHUlzefyIN9GZfK2Sj4oRd2K1WattX_P7Nx5_QuzyIlnYQ9Fag13ZtpbD8tQNKJ7T03OSDjYHwswiCUp3vn2UJ5lmOkw99JL5tt7/s1600/Ersan+Ilysova+Punk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoU64c-j-t1WkB9dTPMZsuCdSFG8Ncs8sJ_6bAk-rywHUlzefyIN9GZfK2Sj4oRd2K1WattX_P7Nx5_QuzyIlnYQ9Fag13ZtpbD8tQNKJ7T03OSDjYHwswiCUp3vn2UJ5lmOkw99JL5tt7/s1600/Ersan+Ilysova+Punk.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<i>"Weren't you the guy with the crazy girlfriend?"</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"Yes. We split apart. We do just not share of similar interests anymore. She not into current affairs. I am. She not a punker. I AM!"</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"Really? You know what punkers don't do?"</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>[Ersan remains silent]</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"Call themselves punkers. What do you listen to?"</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"The Clash. Iggy. The Ramones. Sex Pistols. Rashit. Pisliks. Tunay Akdeniz and Cigrisim. How about you for those obscure bands?"</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK1QAnK8ZhFVSMp0o__io0kwNP3UduspKWPMJGyshtatzHhlwm4o90pBdVE1-Df-FuQ9ElcNh2ykUaKa-nbqlv4lUWTD4xAQ736id5k5fsNPzeWh5upmz1MagNyCdAZp49NlQhYMUCESFl/s1600/Ersan+Ilysova+Guitar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK1QAnK8ZhFVSMp0o__io0kwNP3UduspKWPMJGyshtatzHhlwm4o90pBdVE1-Df-FuQ9ElcNh2ykUaKa-nbqlv4lUWTD4xAQ736id5k5fsNPzeWh5upmz1MagNyCdAZp49NlQhYMUCESFl/s320/Ersan+Ilysova+Guitar.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<i>"Well, that suck."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"Royally."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"No guys, it sounded a lot better."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"I'm out here."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"Where are you going, Daniel? We need to rehearse more."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"No, it is you that do rehearsing. I quit."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"You can't quit. We need to practice."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"You are dumb ass, Andopolis. Rock and roll to do not come from brain. It come from my crotch. Why you think I wear mask, huh? For shit and giggle? For horse play time? This not job for me, Mr. Cute Shorts. And if you ever got any, you know that.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSAtQIQVlD405dCGwDfrZ3g2jMagNGFP548DTKqSB-b0Gt5QuRFEnAsjfp5PX_hntJFK3SKrVNGpdKsCxH8WyjvbNvRiag-5lS9xHDsaErOvvEmQpsFsD3GrR0JGEnntR9L50_B5oIqSn/s1600/Ersan+Ilysova+Omer+Asik.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSAtQIQVlD405dCGwDfrZ3g2jMagNGFP548DTKqSB-b0Gt5QuRFEnAsjfp5PX_hntJFK3SKrVNGpdKsCxH8WyjvbNvRiag-5lS9xHDsaErOvvEmQpsFsD3GrR0JGEnntR9L50_B5oIqSn/s320/Ersan+Ilysova+Omer+Asik.jpg" width="317" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<i>[Omer Asik guest-starred on one episode as Daniel's friend, Nick Andopolis, formerly played by Jason Segel]</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"Nick, do you make out man behind us."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"I do. Big movie star."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"His name, it escapes me."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"And me as well."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"He is the I'm fat guy who knock up hot girl, correct?"</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"I believe so, yes."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"Do we ask him for autograph."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"Absolutely NO, Daniel. He ask us. We are big bad American basketball stars."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"Do you think he know our faces?"</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"No. Sadly, no. We a couple of tall Turks to him."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"Nick, let me put this, how you say, gently. Why is your chin bleed?"</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"My dad, army man, hit me in face. Day in the life."</i>Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-50447682114365971922012-02-21T15:45:00.000-08:002012-02-21T15:45:30.834-08:00The More You Know<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxFjntRBwY39NyYFiifZWvYiJBlYSBG-0JvwoIwAsVQkCEpn-z0Z01jd9npLlN9X0Fpn-ZAyzpYsLDdOK2DXRv_0DNOteeyO7uK48gS5DW6dYWle111SmNFG8EtVcNBvXy8wis9pL8lV4/s1600/400000000000000039056_s4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxFjntRBwY39NyYFiifZWvYiJBlYSBG-0JvwoIwAsVQkCEpn-z0Z01jd9npLlN9X0Fpn-ZAyzpYsLDdOK2DXRv_0DNOteeyO7uK48gS5DW6dYWle111SmNFG8EtVcNBvXy8wis9pL8lV4/s400/400000000000000039056_s4.jpg" width="242" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>The post-college student, especially those of the naive and ultimately doomed English-major variety are swamped, <i>Hoarders</i>-style, in a mountain of books. Books we probably should have sold back to the bookstore for ten cents on the dollar like normal kids, but just couldn't. My strategy was simple: if I liked one of the books I read in class, I kept it. I figured I would eventually get around to reading it again since I liked it so much the first time around. Predictably, this has not happened. I have not reread ANY of the books I saved. Books are too plentiful and life too finite to waste precious minutes rereading the words of a some guy who didn't live to see iPods or flat-screen TVs.<br />
<br />
I was trying to realign some of these books on the bookshelf -- How does the saying go? My bookshelf needs a bookshelf? -- and nearly realigned my spinal cord instead. In the middle of this burdensome work, I unearthed a little brown book, tucked away behind some Mark Twain and Nathaniel Hawthorne. The book, pictured right, was <i>The Red Badge of Courage</i> by Stephen Crane. My professor bumped it from the syllabus because she wanted to spend more time on a previously ignored feminist text that predated the feminist movement. I don't remember the feminist text or the author because I'm a bad person. I did save <i>The Red Badge of Courage</i>, though, because I didn't have a chance to read it and would have received about two cents back from the bookstore. So there it was, hidden all this time, a book on the shelf I had not read.<br />
<br />
I used to always skip Introductions in college, but now I find them fascinating. <i>So-and-so was huffing paint while writing in the closet of his second-cousin's one-room apartment. You don't say?</i> Critic Alfred Kazin made a point of hammering home two things in the Introduction:<br />
<br />
1) This was the first American novel to describe war as it truly was. Basically, Crane called bullshit on the idea of a flawless and heroic soldier, always-competent leadership, and patriotism. Soldiers were scared sometimes, lieutenants were not the smartest men in battle, and neither always knew what they were fighting for.<br />
<br />
2) Crane was only 21* when he completed this novel and never fought in battle. His experiences were drawn from what he read. Many Civil War veterans who read the book were shocked to find out such a realistic portrayal of battle and nuanced psychological profile of a soldier could be penned by someone who was not once a soldier himself.<br />
<br />
* -- <i>There's nothing like reading a novel firmly established in the American literary canon, written by a 21-year-old to remind you of how little you've done with your life.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
I finished the book today. There's tales of a soldiers handing over their personal belongings before battle, anticipating death. There's a colony of ants crawling over the face and into the eyes of a dead soldier. There's a cloud of gray smoke hovering over every scene, including the battle-free scenes. There's the overwhelming sense of paranoia that you would expect in a war novel. Where the book truly shines, in my opinion, is when Crane delves into Henry's (the protagonist, referred to as "the youth") psyche. We see a a soldier who believes in the glory of war and is reduced to fleeing the scene when it comes time to fight. Henry describes the guilt of walking past the wounded soldiers and wishes he suffered a wound himself. He is forced to leave a dying comrade at one point, and reminisces on the looks girls gave him in uniform and the support he received back home when being sent off. It's powerful stuff that reads like a memoir if memoirs were written in third person.<br />
<br />
Reading Crane got me to thinking about sports writing. Most sportswriters didn't play college sports. Some didn't even play in high school yet they are entrusted with telling these stories. It's one thing to a write a simple game recap, but but how adequately can a writer assess a player's ability to breakdown a defense if they've never broken down a defense? Or even, how can a writer truly understand what's going through a player's mind on the court? Interviews are becoming more and more useless every year, as players know better than to express anything that can provide headlines or damage their brand.<br />
<br />
We've accepted the writer-player relationship because it's the best we can do. Players cannot play and write full-time during the season. And just as their counterparts weren't good enough to play professionally, they probably wouldn't be good enough to write professionally. So we cling to our Stephen Crane's. The ones who are so good they can make you feel like they were chasing Ray Allen around screens or standing at the free throw line, down a point with two free throws. They command the respect of the players they write about and so on.<br />
<br />
Either way, I'm glad to have experienced one of Stephen Crane's literary contributions. I wish he could have listened to his Abe Holzmann on an iPod. <i> </i> Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-60113887985434587042012-02-15T08:31:00.000-08:002012-02-15T15:45:54.458-08:00DeMarcus Cousins Doesn't Want To Be Understood<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx9UVOPO82I0mmp828uZr_L0V5ffeg6ZppYXCZga5VFlP8a-nW9Y4UkptpleA1z3ulciY0miyOqpf8r3DiqQrOrGQwXZ07ZUaM8WHUqDBb7SE07R-WJ-IBKm4F19bSeiJaIoCkYN7KnvPh/s1600/DeMarcus+Cousins+Thought+Bubble.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx9UVOPO82I0mmp828uZr_L0V5ffeg6ZppYXCZga5VFlP8a-nW9Y4UkptpleA1z3ulciY0miyOqpf8r3DiqQrOrGQwXZ07ZUaM8WHUqDBb7SE07R-WJ-IBKm4F19bSeiJaIoCkYN7KnvPh/s400/DeMarcus+Cousins+Thought+Bubble.png" width="252" /></a></div><br />
<br />
My reputation precedes me. I'm either lazy or misunderstood depending on who you ask. I'm spoiled and got my coach fired and have played better in his absence. I've played better because I'm finally allowed to play free. Simplicity. Let me do my thing. My thing is to score 30 points and grab 15 rebounds. I will do this quietly if you let me, but nobody seems to let me. I'm always being poked and prodded. I've acquired the reputation as a hothead, and rightfully so. My opponents use this to their advantage, they know the slightest shove will set me off and the referees will rule against me. I'm not innocent in all this -- I enjoy mixing it up too. To you, I look like I play the game angry, and I am angry. Who wants to play within confined parameters, under talent-constraining rules, with coaches and teammates and referees and fans who do not have my best interest in mind? I'm a cog in the machine. I <i>am</i> the machine.<br />
<br />
Every mention of my name ends in a discussion of my temper. My temper is holding me back and is the reason I will never achieve greatness in this league. They say this and don't realize that my demeanor is why I'm so good in the first place. I attack the glass with a fierceness you don't see from many players, but only when I fell like it. Sometimes I prefer to take it easy. All good men have to rest sometimes. They dwell on my temper but cannot ignore my talent. My talent is the reason, down 8 with 45 seconds left, I can effortlessly drain a three -- my first make and only fourth attempt on the season -- to momentarily save the game. I do this and make sure my headband is straight after the fact.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=juXirRM-5bw">They ask me about Valentine's Day and I jokingly give them all the cliche answers</a>. I know better. When I give the honest answers they are used as proof of my immaturity. It took LeBron seven years to figure this out. They used to like him, they never liked me, so I was able to learn earlier. You may have noticed me joking with Donte Greene in the video. That's the same Donte Greene I tried to punch in the face during a team flight last year. Initially, people speculated gambling or my general dickishness was to blame. I tried to fight Greene because he didn't give me the ball at the end of the game. I wanted the ball, not for individual glory, but because I knew I was the only Sacramento King capable of making a shot. Tyreke Evans missed a good look and we lost the game. Why can my teammates never make the simple play? I stormed off the court and, depending on who you ask, was either trying to incite a mutiny, or really pissed our loss was out of my control. Donte and I are cool now. I'm a big kid, remember. Boys will be boys.<br />
<br />
Why must they make everything so difficult? No, Starbucks lady making my coffee, DE -- Marcus, Marcus is my teammate's name. No, guy at the furniture store writing up my bill, I'm not <i>DeMarcus's cousin</i>, I'm DeMarcus Cousins. Last name, Cousins. First name, DeMarcus. Do you think so lowly of me that, strolling into your place of employment and attempting to purchase furniture in my cousin's name seems like something I would do? Well fuck you then. People needlessly complicate things to the point where we can no longer understand each other. Just give me the ball. Give me the DAMN ball in the post and let me go to work. Don't worry about all those set plays. Give me the ball and I'll show you a very simple way to score two points.<br />
<br />
Of course I asked for a trade. Wouldn't you? Oh, you sit tight-lipped through a shitty job for 25 years of your life and let your potential go to waste. You're not me then. Know my game, study it. Don't worry about my personal life or mindset. I'm here to play basketball, it's everyone else who needs to catch up. There's some things about me you will never understand and that is exactly how I want it. Now who scratched my goddamn Gucci CD? Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-35936237721671735622012-02-13T09:56:00.000-08:002012-02-13T09:56:06.531-08:00All Around The World The Same Song<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.indiewire.com/static/dims4/INDIEWIRE/d069f32/4102462740/thumbnail/680x478/http://d1oi7t5trwfj5d.cloudfront.net/83/80eef0114b11e18c76123138165f92/file/the-vow-channing-tatum-rachel-mcadams-new.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="http://www.indiewire.com/static/dims4/INDIEWIRE/d069f32/4102462740/thumbnail/680x478/http://d1oi7t5trwfj5d.cloudfront.net/83/80eef0114b11e18c76123138165f92/file/the-vow-channing-tatum-rachel-mcadams-new.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Give me that stupid hat and take off your shirt!" Or something along those lines.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
All of the worst things people say about Valentine's Day are true. It is a made-up holiday, no doubt, manufactured for the purpose of selling candy, flowers, and Hallmark cards. It puts unnecessary pressure on guys who feel they've done a pretty good job up to this point. Worse yet, Valentine's Day plays on the insecurities of (mostly) women whose existence is validated by a man in their life. You are not single and have not been for some time. Being the pampered soul you are, you bemoan the yearly difficulties of impressing someone who is going to love you regardless.<br />
<br />
Valentine's Day is not all anxiety and depression. In a long-term relationship, you, and everyone really, have the tendency to take your partner for granted. Valentine's Day, if nothing else, is your yearly reminder to show them you care, even though you don't always show it. You'd prefer something less traditional as a Valentine's Day warm-up, but your girlfriend wants to see <i>The Vow</i>. You think of hundreds of things, some of them very unsavory, you would rather do, but your girlfriend wants to see <i>The Vow</i> so <i>The Vow</i> is what you're going to see. You've subjected her to the Washington Wizards and the Portland Trail Blazers and Tony Allen enough to understand relationships even things out. You recall a recent conversation:<br />
<br />
"Who's playing?"<br />
<br />
"The Knicks and Timberwolves."<br />
<br />
"Gross. Who do you want to win?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, I don't really care."<br />
<br />
"Why are you watching if you don't care who wins?"<br />
<br />
You have no good answer for this question. It isn't normal to watch a six or so hours of basketball a night? Normal people do other things on Saturday night? You watch basketball because that's what you enjoy, and you cannot explain why you get so much satisfaction from sitting idly and watching others achieve athletic greatness. It isn't easy to love you, you understand, and realize the least you can do is sit still for two more hours and watch <i>The Vow </i>instead of LeBron.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>The Vow</i> transports you to a world where you are supposed to believe Channing Tatum is an underdog, overdue bills are paid with LOVE, and a near fatal car accident is ultimately beneficial. Tatum wears a goofy hat in the beginning and ugly sweaters throughout--a deal breaker for most guys, but Channing Tatum is not most guys. He made the women in the theater (about 80 percent of the crowd) swoon when he appeared in a <br />
non-frontal nude scene. His love interest, Rachel McAdams is a well-dressed coat rack, serving mostly to get Tatum naked and to help him set an impossible "good guy" standard. Despite the plot being structured around McAdams' ability to remember, you get the feeling a hour-long loop of Tatum in his underwear reciting a sappy monologue would have grossed the same.<br />
<br />
There is no need to get into the story because you know how the story ends. This does not stop you, however, from becoming immersed. You try to deny it, but a part of you says "Fuck Jeremy," and wonders why it's taking so long for McAdams to make the right decision. This can't possibly be a true story like the opening credits say it is, and if so, how much money are these real people making off this? The actress playing McAdams' sister is fortunate to look like her, you think, helping time move by. You want to feel above this, but you know you aren't. Deep down, you know every basketball season is no different from the worst chick flicks.<br />
<br />
The ending, storylines, and drama are the same, played by different actors/players and shifting circumstances based on story/team. You know the year will end with a champion being crowned. You know there will be surprise team and a surprise rookie or two. You know this team will come up short in the playoffs and these breakout player(s) will regress to the mean. You don't care. This is your preferred form of entertainment. The difference being, those who enjoy chick flicks always root for the winner. They know they will leave happy. It's not like that in sports. You don't want your team to be Jeremy or the douchy future-brother-in-law who, in his big scene, questions the profitability of a recording studio in today's day and age. You want your team to be Channing Tatum and there can only be one.<br />
<br />
To borrow an English phrase, the Bulls seem to be losing the plot a bit. At full-strength they're the best team in the NBA. Will they ever be at full-strength though? This is not meant to be a panicked reaction to a regular season road loss to Boston without Derrick Rose. This is a legitimate concern come playoff time. The Bulls will finish with the top seed in the East and face Miami in the Eastern Conference Finals. This is the predictable part of the movie. Nagging injuries or not, as long as Rose and Deng play, the Bulls are good enough to get past the first two rounds. Rose and Deng's injuries seem like they aren't going away and Rip Hamilton has literally went away somewhere. No one has seen him in weeks. Twenty-point road wins against bad teams are nice and all, but Miami is the only real competition to get the girl.<br />
<br />
It feels like the Bulls are descending into supporting role territory or even worse, one of those woman who hosts an Anti-Valentine's Day Party. That's probably too extreme you're thinking, but remember, you sat through <i>The Vow</i> last night--you're not thinking straight. Your bewilderment and inherent pessimism knows no bounds and you just want the Bulls to be Channing Tatum because <i>The Vow</i> did its job and made you feel oh so inadequate.<br />
<br />
See how none of this makes sense? Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-9979639180660796812012-02-06T10:14:00.000-08:002012-02-06T10:22:35.274-08:00Eli Was There, But Not Really<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFbQsug-YKQysDVvIyMemenRjm6TR3fM4eh85-1z4cZfVVxS1yT_3UliQTMRyTnnyNu3vf_6wd_dtwyHqlGOyn1jOVSAD1lwUIx4pGbRHcAj6AOHBj-uaOYMaCqfDjNK_ZldGG24ko74VL/s1600/Peyton+and+Eli.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFbQsug-YKQysDVvIyMemenRjm6TR3fM4eh85-1z4cZfVVxS1yT_3UliQTMRyTnnyNu3vf_6wd_dtwyHqlGOyn1jOVSAD1lwUIx4pGbRHcAj6AOHBj-uaOYMaCqfDjNK_ZldGG24ko74VL/s400/Peyton+and+Eli.png" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<br />
The Super Bowl is over. Finally. Two teams you hate squared off and as is unfortunately always the case, one of them had to win. Super Bowl MVP Eli Manning played fantastic, completing 75 percent of his passes for 296 yards, and one touchdown. The commercials and halftime performance sucked as much as they always have and Cris Collinsworth would take some good, old-fashioned discipline from Tom Coughlin any day of the week. The outcome of this game was almost decided by the assumption Ahmad Bradshaw would make the smart play, which is absolutely hilarious if you're not a Giants fan. Rob Gronkowksi appeared hobbled by injury and Tom Brady is now a choke artist because he lost to Eli twice--in the Super Bowl--and Peyton Manning, and Bart Starr, and Otto Graham would have never let that happen to them. Stripped of the silly narratives, Super Bowl XLVI was an entertaining game, even if you were still hung over from the night before.<br />
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The night should have belonged to Eli and the Giants alone, but Peyton's shadow hung over the place like the Colts' Divisional Championship banners. I undertook the painstaking mission of compiling all the questions asked to Eli Manning in the weeks leading up to the Super Bowl. It turns out 100 percent of the questions in some way reverted back to Peyton. Here are the most common:<br />
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1) We're here in Indianapolis, in the stadium your brother Peyton built. What does this mean to you knowing you grew up watching Peyton complete his engineering homework as the sweet smell of your mother's casserole danced around the kitchen?<br />
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2) Given the severity of the injury and delicate balance needed to assess any damage to the neck area, how will this affect Peyton's ability to analyze your throwing motion come Sunday?<br />
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3) The 2007 Playoffs was perhaps the most unpredictable NFL postseason of the last decade, marked by San Diego's stunning upset of the Colts in the second round. What, if anything, did you learn from that crushing defeat?<br />
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4) On a scale of 1-10, 10 being 'Big-Big Asshole,' how would you rate Andrew Luck as a person?<br />
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5) You came under fire early in your career for refusing to play for the San Diego Chargers, who drafted you first overall in 2004. Was your decision motivated by the thought of having to play your older brother in the Playoffs every year?<br />
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6) We know Peyton has been breaking down film furiously over these last couple of weeks, more than yourself, I'm sure. It's no secret the two of you have talked strategy all year. In the event of a win Sunday, how much of the credit does Peyton deserve? 18 percent? 50? 100?<br />
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7) Five years before you entered the league, we watched Peyton exert an unparalleled amount of control over play-calling at the line of scrimmage. Watching you bumble through your progressions, you appeared retarded in comparison. Have you always been retarded, or is this something that has come to light only since playing football professionally?<br />
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8) Critics of your brother have pointed out his repeated postseason failures. They've duly noted a Super Bowl win over a Rex Grossman-led team should be taken with a grain of salt. Meanwhile, the same people say your TWO wins over Tom Brady and the Patriots are proof of your superiority as a quarterback. What would you say to dispel this obviously faulty logic?<br />
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9) As part of the 37-hour Super Bowl pregame marathon, you told the touching story of the first time you beat Peyton in a game of basketball. Off the record, can you admit that story was a lie and you have never beaten Peyton at anything?<br />
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10) Growing up, Peyton berated you. He pushed you around, beat you up, and never let you win at anything. He'd tell you to "Look over there!" and eat the food off your plate when you turned your head. Some older brothers coddle their younger brothers, preferring to support and encourage them in every way possible. Explain how a miserable, anxiety-riddled childhood was ultimately more beneficial than one with loving and functional familial relationships. <br />
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11) On a scale of 1-10, 10 being 'Completely Useless' and 1 being 'Appendix,' how would you rate Jim Caldwell's job performance?<br />
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12) Peyton wouldn't be caught dead driving a 2012 Corvette Grand Sport Convertible Centennial Edition, would he?<br />
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13) Interestingly enough, Peyton has two kids and one Super Bowl, and you have one kid and two Super Bowls. How frustrated is Peyton, knowing he's on the wrong end of the kid : Super Bowl ratio?<br />
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14) To us Northerners, who, barring a Chernobyl-like disaster, would never venture below the Mason Dixon line; Mississippi and Tennessee are viewed as equally abysmal states. Describe the merits of both states without structuring your argument around "Peyton attended school in one of them."<br />
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15) Your father, Archie, always says he loves all his children equally, regardless of whether they play football, sell insurance, or are female. We all know this isn't true. As the new favorite, how will you deal with your father's unadulterated attention this offseason? Is it safe to pencil in Peyton as the 2013 Super Bowl MVP?<br />
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16) The new popular saying is "You can't spell 'Elite' without 'Eli.'" Has Peyton begun to unscramble the letters in his name to compose a flattering buzzword?<br />
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17) This preseason you said you were "absolutely" in the same class as Tom Brady. Is this class one or two rungs below your brother?<br />
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18) Staunch observers have criticized network coverage for deflecting too much of YOUR attention onto your brother. When you retire and you've won more Super Bowls and put up similar career numbers to Peyton, will you just laugh at the stupidity of the general public, or make like Aaron Rodgers and become an analyst for the sole purpose of airing your remorseful, bitter rants?Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-86586191520952932132012-02-02T10:23:00.000-08:002012-02-02T10:23:38.688-08:00To All The Przybillas and a Hundred Dollar Billas<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Disappointment never looked this good."</td></tr>
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I happened again. The Bulls dropped their third in the last five after only losing three of their first sixteen games. It's obviously time to panic. You can only place the onus on Deng's return for so long. The Bulls need to make a move and they need to do it now. Dwight Howard recently said he'd be interested in playing in Chicago. He also unknowingly agreed to a long-term deal with the Beirut Bandits, so take his word for what it's worth. Howard to the Bulls isn't happening and Bulls fans know it. Think smaller, more under the radar, but big impact implications. Consider a different 7-foot shot-blocking machine who used to grab 20 boards when given the playing time. Think Joel Przybilla. He's been waiting patiently. He's wants back in. He has plenty to prove and he needs to prove it in a Bulls uniform.<br />
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Przybilla was the 9th overall pick in the 2000 Draft--a draft renowned for its legendary awfulness. This alone makes him a particularly suitable candidate to play 10 minutes a game every tenth game. The oft-injured center was seen jiving on the bench with Greg Oden during his six-year stint in Portland. The duo made the best of a frustrating situation. They compared suits, often leaving the price tag on because who wants to pay for 55 different suits a season when they can just take them back? They chastised Andre Miller's haircut from a distance and exchanged sweet potato pie recipes. Occasionally Przybilla would be forced to leave his friend and play in a game that night. Oden, sulking and lonely, watched as Przybilla developed into a defensive force. He blocked shots and grabbed rebounds with the ferociousness of a descending turkey vulture. He did all of the things (besides score) that Oden was supposed to do better and more frequently for the Trail Blazers.<br />
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The Sixers scored 46 of their 98 points in the paint (47 percent) against the Bulls last night. That number is entirely too high for a perimeter-oriented team. Now I ask you, would Przybilla's presence at the end of the Bulls' bench not help in this department? Would his acquisition not put the Eastern Conference on notice like Rasual Butler's did last year? At the very least, Przybilla provides insurance should one of the bigs go down with an injury, assuming Przybilla doesn't go down with an injury first. Przybilla's arrival would also allow Brian Scalabrine to return to the familiar 'victory cigar' role he excelled at last season. In a lockout-shortened season bereft of continuity, Przybilla's arrival could change everything.<br />
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As much as I would like to suggest differently, my newfound support of Przybilla is motivated by a case of 'Keeping up with the Jameses.' Przybilla is currently mulling over offers from the Bulls and Heat and expected to make a decision sometime this week. If the Bulls don't get Przybilla, then the Heat do, and I don't want the Heat to get anyone. Envy has its limits. The Heat can take Eddy Curry and place whatever hopes they feel comfortable with on his ability to not register on the Richter Scale. Eddy Curry at best is a resealed driveway. Przybilla could potentially be new siding. I don't care if you can't afford it. You dip into the savings, call up your father-in-law crying, do whatever you have to do to make sure your asshole neighbors aren't the only ones in the neighborhood with new siding.<br />
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In summation, Joel Przybilla will contribute very little to the Bulls. He won't play unless someone is injured, but he will designate Scalabrine back to the bench. He may be the secret weapon to clogging up driving lanes in the playoffs or he may pull up lame his first game back on the court. He certainly will not have a problem elbowing a driving Derrick Rose in the head, and I would much rather it be a driving LeBron James or Dwyane Wade he is elbowing in the head. The Heat could use a goonish big man and thus, should not be allowed to have one.<br />
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Make it happen Bulls. Send someone else out on the recruiting trip if Derrick Rose doesn't want to go. Joel Przybilla cannot land in Miami. Where he goes will shift the balance of power in the East <i>or</i> make no difference at all. Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-84180315781482208582012-01-26T09:17:00.000-08:002012-01-26T11:06:27.656-08:00A Breakdown of the Pacers Roster<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Larry Bird is more excited than he's letting on.</td></tr>
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You think it would be the opposite, but when a good team loses, the world seems to be splitting along its fault lines. Fans stick their heads in the oven and Kendall Gill suggests the Bulls "pick up another big man," as if there's a pile of them decomposing on Madison Ave. The Bulls lost at home without Luol Deng and Taj Gibson to a much-improved Indian Pacers team. No Taj Gibson means Brian Scalabrine, originally substituted for defensive purposes, ends up missing the potential game-winning shot. There are no mysteries surrounding the injury-free Bulls. They'll be back to the ECF against Miami, everything until then falls under "team building" or "ego stroking." The injuries are the only IF. We know how good the Bulls are when healthy. For that reason, the Pacers are much more interesting. How good are they really?* Below is my -- as always -- very serious opinion of each player on their roster.<br />
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* - <i>Pretty damn good.</i><br />
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<b><u>DAVID WEST</u></b> - If you kept a close eye on West during yesterday's game you saw a player who was thoroughly enjoying himself. His overall demeanor -- big whooping laughs, reckless flailing of the arms, and childlike enthusiasm, gave the impression he was the Pacer most looking forward to avenging last year's playoff loss. Except West was not a member of last year's playoff team, yet still seemed to have a personal vendetta. West relishes contact. He's the increasingly rare player who doesn't mind fighting for a board and then puffing his chest out when he's accidentally smacked in the mouth. His toughness is a welcome addition to a team that was already pretty tough. I get the impression he tattooed the 'X' on his left arm himself.<br />
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<b><u>DANNY GRANGER</u></b> - So much of what the Pacers have been building the last three years is dependent upon Granger playing like a superstar. He'll churn in the occasional performance, like last night, where his stat line looks nice because he converts some easy baskets around the rim and hits three of his four three-point attempts. Then you see he missed three of his four 17-19 footers and got lit up by Ronnie Brewer on the other end and you just have to tip your cap on this particular day. The chaos he created ultimately worked to his benefit. Frustrating as it is, Granger will follow this game up with a 5-18 and five more turnovers. The Pacers always rebound and play solid defense, but they live and die with Granger's outside shot falling and that is not a particularly good spot to be in.<br />
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<b><u>ROY HIBBERT</u></b> - Hibbert broke his nose on Sunday and now wears the same style mask popularized by Rip Hamilton. There is no player in the NBA who looks better in a face mask. Hibbert always struck me as the horror movie villain. He's enormous, lumbers down the court in no particular hurry, and seems to be confused about everything except shanking the guy face guarding Granger. He probably owns a shed with a lawnmower and a chainsaw and a closet full of flannel sweaters. Hibbert looked confident in the post yesterday and his confidence on the basketball court is the most terrifying thing of all. His improvement spells disaster in the form of the frontcourt slasher film he released last night.<br />
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<u><b>DARREN COLLISON</b></u> - The Pacers are on the verge of contending in the East. They're good enough defensively to put a scare into someone in the second round. All teams on the verge are a piece or two away from being perennial conference favorites. Collison is the guy everyone thinks needs to be replaced. He's lighting quick but plays out of control. He can get to the basket, but doesn't have the strength or size to finish consistently around the rim. He's just there. A good player but not good enough for a team with title aspirations. His presence is a sobering reminder that in all walks of life, despite doing your job competently and occasionally brilliantly, you can always be replaced.<br />
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<b><u>PAUL GEORGE</u></b> - George is the Wild Card. He already is an excellent defender who, at 6'9 can guard positions 1-3. How his offense comes along will be the biggest question. Should George live up to his promise of being a 20 ppg scorer, Danny Granger all of a sudden becomes expendable. Danny Granger becoming expendable, I would argue, is a good thing. At the same time, if George stays an elite defender and never polishes his offensive game, the Pacers still got a steal with last year's 10th overall pick. Every year, a guy drafted in the 8-10 spot ends up becoming an impact player that a team drafting earlier foolishly passed up. George is that 2010 guy. In hindsight, you think Minnesota might have preferred him over Wes Johnson?<br />
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<b><u>DAHNTAY JONES</u></b> - Jones is the designated guy who is always overly excited on the bench. Good play by a teammate, better play by an opponent, it doesn't matter. Jones is happy to be courtside and he's happy to let his voice be heard, and he's happy to piss off the people who paid for front row seats because he's waving a towel in the their face all game. Every good team needs a guy like Dahntay Jones for no other reason than he gets under the opponent's skin. When Jones enters the game, the adrenaline rush could prompt him to lift a vehicle or rescue a child from a burning building. He'll probably turn the ball over trying to do too much instead.<br />
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<b><u>LOUIS AMUNDSON</u></b> - Enough with the ponytail. A ponytail has no place on a the basketball court (cue WNBA joke). At least Noah rectified his situation by opting for the bun. The bun looks even more ridiculous but at least curbs the problem of hair flying in everybody's face when jumping for a rebound. Here's my suggestion: like the NFL, ponytails in the NBA should be free game. If it's there, you can pull it without being assessed a foul. Amundson would think twice about trotting that stupid-ass look out onto the court if this was the case.<br />
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<b><u>GEORGE HILL</u></b> - Hill spearheaded the "Collison Is The Weak Link" Movement. Someone should have told him Collison's replacement is going to start in front of him too.<br />
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<b><u>TYLER HANSBROUGH</u></b> - I like Hansbrough. I know, as a Bulls fan, I'm supposed to feel the opposite. Nope. If you thought West relished contact, then Hansbrough worships it. Hansbrough brings a fullback mentality to the game of basketball, which is why he's so loathed. Fans appreciate style and finesse and Hansbrough possesses neither of those things. He's probably taken Adderall since age seven, which has permanently fixed his face into a stupid scowl, but also contributed to his laser-like focus. I'd love to go to war with this guy. I just wouldn't want to ride in the passenger seat of his Hyundai Elantra because he'd clearly have no problem driving over the median.<br />
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<b><u>LANCE STEPHENSON</u></b> - Regardless of records, it looks like the Chicago-New York rivalry is never going away. Bulls fans, I know, are enjoying the collapse of the Knicks. I'd prefer the Knicks be good because I'd prefer the games mean something. Anyway, Stephenson is the latest New Yorker supposed to be the "Next Big Thing" who, like the Knicks, has repeatedly face planted. So if you take joy in the continued failures of New York, look no further than Lance Stephenson. <br />
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<b><u>A.J. PRICE & JEFF PENDERGRAPH</u></b> - Oh Hey! Of course I recognize you guys. High school, right? Junior-year Spanish? No? Oh RIGHT! That time at the mall eating Sbarro. No? Listen guys, I've gotta run. It was nice catching up with you.<br />
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<b><u>JEFF FOSTER</u></b> - Fuck Jeff Foster.Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-34696314495808612042012-01-23T22:03:00.000-08:002012-01-23T22:03:51.328-08:00Tom Thibodeau Responds To His Critics<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5003/5216271951_67fe614684_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5003/5216271951_67fe614684_z.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">OHHHHH. It must suck not being the head coach of the Bulls. I wouldn't know anything about that though.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
It's come to my attention that a few Backers -- Boggers --Blockers --Bloggers? Bloggers? Is that how you say it? It's come to my attention that a few BLOGGERS have a problem with the way I've been running my team. MY team. Now look, I understand what it's like to be angry. I watched guys like Vinny Del Negro land head coaching jobs while I was stuck masturbating in the film room at 4 in the morning. Doc preached his ubuntu shit and hid fake hundred dollar bills in EVERY away stadium and the media loved him for it. I drew up the defenses anonymously. Do you have any idea what it's like to draw up a defensive game plan for the Lakers? Try to imagine willingly putting your foot in a crocodile's mouth, looking that crocodile in the eye as he lets your foot rest gently in the back of his throat, and then just sit there as he starts to nibble on your big toe nice and slow. Then the crocodile gets bored and offers your foot back. You want to run but you put it right back in there because that's what you have to do. The crocodile is having a little trouble biting down properly and then Ron Artest comes out of nowhere and hits a fucking three. All the sleepless nights, the shitty eating habits, the premature balding, and past success come to the forefront of your mind as you realize: There was nothing I could have done to prepare for that.<br />
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I was always a bit of an obsessive as a kid. I memorized numbers, particularly the years movies were released. <i>The Sting</i> - 1973. <i>The Graduate</i> - 1967. <i>Scarface</i> - 1983, the original version was 1932. Ask me any movie, I know it. Why do I tell you this, you ask? I...well...you see...sometimes I get sidetracked and before I know it I'm revealing embarrassing things about myself. You know, I treat basketball like I used to treat those movies. The finished product; title, release date, etc. was the important thing. I wasn't at all concerned about the actors. A good director takes what actors he's given and makes a hell of a movie. Sometimes his focus on a scene becomes so intense he forgets that one of the actors should not have been in the scene. Then by the time he yells, "Cut!" he hasn't the time or the money to go back and redo it. So the scene is filmed and it's already the end of the third quarter and I realize Derrick has played every minute of the game on a bum toe. Do you see what I'm saying? Work with me here. I'm not the best at conveying my thoughts.<br />
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My mother used to worry about me when I was seven years old. "Play outside," she said. "Your brain will turn to mush sitting in front of the television all day." I had no friends. Just a basketball, a ripped pair of jeans and perfectly respectable crew cut. I dribbled that ball -- boy did I dribble. I dribbled and dribbled and dribbled and I still wasn't any good. I used to bounce the ball off my foot and send it flying down the street. I ran after that ball and when I caught up to it I would start dribbling again. Inevitably, the ball would bounce off my foot again and I'd keep running for it. This WAS basketball to me. Lots of running. Constant motion. I loved the way the sweat trickled down my forehead and into my eyes. It stung. I enjoyed the pain. The pain was intense and good for me because I needed a different sort of pain to compensate for my lack of friends. I found running around all day with a basketball more than sufficient.<br />
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A couple years later, my mother became even more worried. "I'm worried you're going to kill someone, Tommy. I should have you committed." For Christmas that year I received a magnifying glass from my eccentric uncle. He told me, "Fame is a magnifying glass." I didn't understand the quote or its significance at the time, but I did enjoy the grotesque beauty of my magnified penis. The magnifying glass became my new companion. I took it outside with me, and, to my mother's dismay, dug around the garden. "That's not a garden hoe, Tommy," she yelled out the window. I pouted and stuck my tongue out at her and made my way to the front of the house. As fate would have it, another boy about my age, a boy I had never seen in my life, was riding his bike. He spotted my magnifying glass. His eyes lit up. "Cool," is all he could say.<br />
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This boy, Dennis was his name, showed me what magnifying glasses were really used for. We sat Indian style on the sidewalk and watched the ants go by. Dennis raised my magnifying glass to the sun. I watched as the sun beams reflected through the glass onto the pitiful creature. The ant, I thought, was dancing. What a fun time. "NO," Dennis said. "He's dying. We're KILLING this ant." My eyes lit up this time. Was that much control possible? Could I really impose my will on the universe? I watched as the ant withered and crumbled into the sidewalk. It was dead all right. We had ran it into the ground. I smiled bigger than when I received the Bulls coaching job. I couldn't stop smiling. My mother scheduled a psychiatrist appointment for me that day.<br />
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Running after basketballs for hours on end and accelerating the deaths of small, harmless animals were my childhood hobbies. Take from that what you will. Just know, I am always prepared. I will never let a Ron Artest situation happen again. Psychiatrists are not to be thanked. They bring to light all of your personal inadequacies, and worst of all, they make YOU tell them. Sure, I would love to carry you to the finish line only to have you hop off my back and break the tape yourself. I'm in control now. This is MY team made in MY image. They like playing through injuries because playing through injuries is what basketball players do.<br />
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Write your blogs and air your grievances. Last year it was Keith Bogans. This year it's playing time. Next year it will be something else. I'm trying to see where ya'll are coming from but the light reflecting off of my Coach of the Year trophy is a bit blinding. See you in June, suckas. Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-10312910760926600982012-01-19T10:29:00.000-08:002012-01-19T10:29:43.457-08:00Scalabrine Minutes<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.chicagotribune.com/media/photo/2012-01/67454959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="363" src="http://www.chicagotribune.com/media/photo/2012-01/67454959.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Brian Scalabrine strips away the familiarity and comfort of his Chicago Bulls home warm-up. It's time to go to work.</td></tr>
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Brian Scalabrine, by virtue of playing on an NBA team, will forever be confounding. His game is not the confusing part. Scalabrine is a moderately skilled player who, at this point in his career, does nothing on the basketball court particularly well. His value is as a locker room guy -- a guy who keeps the other players loose and helps them understand the system he knows in and out. Scalabrine, by all accounts, is a sharp basketball mind and a future head coach. The NBA is filled with smart bench players. Why is it that Scalabrine is the only one who receivers standing ovations?<br />
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The popular explanation deems Scalabrine "the human victory cigar." He only plays when the Bulls are blowing their opponent out. His entrance into the game then makes it official: the Bulls have secured a victory. When the UC crowd chants for Scalabrine, they're really just chanting for the game to be wrapped and delivered. There's of course more to it than that. What makes Scalabrine different from the 12th man on the bench in every other city is his appearance. The curly red hair, pasty skin, pot belly, and lack of athleticism are the traits you'd give your 2K Created Player because they look funny. He's the exact opposite of what a prototypical NBA player is supposed to look like. Seventy-five to eighty percent of the UC crowd on any given night bears more resemblance to Scalabrine than any other Bulls player, and people like rooting for players they look like. Appearance-wise, what truly separates Scal from the crowd is his height, furthering the popular fan delusion that they too would be a professional basketball player if they were 6'9.<br />
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To Scal's credit he doesn't seem upset over the increasingly patronizing chants. He only cares about the respect of his teammates and coaches and dismisses his name as one that "just sounds good coming off the tongue." Bulls fans have been debating about the "Scalabrine" chants since last year. Some consider them harmless fun and others feel they are embarrassing and racially motivated. Race and overall appearance, I believe, do play the biggest factor, but if Scalabrine isn't offended and his teammates aren't offended, then let the crowd chant. Scalabrine and the chants aren't going to disappear anyway.<br />
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This is what I came here to talk about: Scalabrine is seeing more playing time this year. It's been strange. Last year, even with a 20-point lead, the "Scalabrine" chants fell on deaf ears. This year, the "Scalabrine" chants are followed by Scalabrine checking in. Could it be? Has Thibs finally started to soften up and concede the game is in hand? Of course not, the rotation is just different this year. You probably don't remember and neither did I, but Scalabrine was part of the regular rotation early last year. He appeared in only 18 games on the season and played 87 total minutes. Forty-nine of those 87 minutes were in the first five games of the year!<br />
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Carlos Boozer's preseason injury left minutes open at power forward and Thibs favored Scalabrine off the bench over Kurt Thomas. Boozer returned and Thomas played well in Joakim Noah's absence, leaving Scal as the odd man out. This year, rookie shooting guard/small forward Jimmy Butler occupies Thomas' old roster spot. When it comes time to clear the bench, Scalabrine gets the call because he no longer has three guys playing in front of him.<br />
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The reconstructed roster then, more so than a condensed schedule or Thibs' loosening his authoritarian grip, is the reason Scalabrine has appeared in 8 of the Bulls' first 16 games. So if Scalabrine minutes are your favorite part of the Bulls game, thank Kurt Thomas for taking his forearm shivers and silky smooth elbow set-shot to Portland. Send him a "Thank You" card. Or a telegram. Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-20822230799883687692012-01-12T14:11:00.000-08:002012-01-12T14:15:30.980-08:00John Lucas III's Historic Night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2YGlX7OUMLDbt_NPMs-FKUNIejRL_m7QmmpeY0PNurezRANm66I15EsicaIW-i35-JgAsXRcLw-xUxhgysehHkhRGxHroOko4ILtzk_IkWjXw8BhuwGzgCElH90XOe1S7kDrTrpMoUqC/s1600/LeBron+James+Parade.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl2YGlX7OUMLDbt_NPMs-FKUNIejRL_m7QmmpeY0PNurezRANm66I15EsicaIW-i35-JgAsXRcLw-xUxhgysehHkhRGxHroOko4ILtzk_IkWjXw8BhuwGzgCElH90XOe1S7kDrTrpMoUqC/s400/LeBron+James+Parade.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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John Lucas III made his first NBA start Wednesday night in place of Derrick Rose. The game was everything you would expect from a contest between the Wizards and the Rose-less Bulls playing their third game of a back-to-back-to-back. That is to say, a perfect game for Lucas to make his NBA debut. There were plenty of bad shots, sloppy turnovers, and JaVale McGee goaltends to go around. Lucas' teammates were noticeably frustrated at his attempts to play isolation ball and reach the 40 shot mark. But who cares? The Bulls won and Gail Fischer interviewed Lucas after the game. Wiping the sweat from his forehead he panted, "I was just trying to contribute out there. My teammates have confidence in me." I don't know about all that but his performance was certainly a cause for celebration in a less than illustrious NBA career.<br />
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With increased playing time comes the ability to rack up personal achievements, and John Lucas did just that. Interestingly enough, his record numbers corresponded with some lesser known numbers relating to the evening.<br />
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POINTS - 25<br />
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25 - Number of minutes it took for Lucas to gain clearance into the United Center. Lucas was stopped by a security guard three hours before tip-off and asked for identification. "What for?" he responded. "I'm on the team." The security guard did not believe he was a member of the team. Lucas' calls to Tom Thibodeau, camped in the film room since the end of last night's game, were unsuccessful. An unidentified employee of the UC was finally able to interrupt Thibs' masturbation session to a clip of a perfectly executed pick-and-roll defense by pounding on the door loudly. Thibs vouched for his starting point guard and Lucas was allowed to enter.<br />
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FIELD GOALS MADE - 11<br />
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11 - Number of times a Chicago sports columnist led today's piece with, "It's a good time to be a three. Only one month removed from Robert Griffin III's Heisman Trophy acceptance speech, fellow Texan John Lucas III ... (and later) It's safe to say, there's a new sheriff in town.<br />
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FIELD GOALS ATTEMPTED - 28<br />
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28 - The number of dirty looks Ronnie Brewer gave Lucas during the Wizards game after Lucas opted to fling up a difficult shot rather than pass to Brewer for the open mid-range jumper. Also, the number of minutes (+1) Joakim Noah was on the bench.<br />
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REBOUNDS, ASSISTS - 8<br />
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8 - Number of "cousins" who called or texted Lucas after the game asking about tickets for "that Thunder game." Lucas was a star player for the Oklahoma State Final Four team in 2004 and gained a number of fans and admirers along the way. He does not, however, recall having any cousins by the names of Ohcumgache and Buster. <br />
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MINUTES PLAYED - 46<br />
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46 - Mike James' original jersey number. The Bulls signed former NBA journeyman and current D-Leaguer Mike James hours before tip-off to back up Lucas. The equipment staff acted quickly and were able to secure a number 46 jersey for James with his name etched on the back. Sensing he may pick up some garbage time minutes, James decided it would be best for any future basketball endeavors if he was not associated with this game in any way. He snuck into the locker room and replaced his jersey with a nameless number 14 and entered the game with 42 seconds to play.Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-49236550612258549582012-01-11T20:08:00.000-08:002012-01-11T20:09:28.375-08:00Sheek Louch - Turkish Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://cdn.bleacherreport.net/images_root/images/photos/001/167/714/110647376_crop_650x440.jpg?1301545516" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="http://cdn.bleacherreport.net/images_root/images/photos/001/167/714/110647376_crop_650x440.jpg?1301545516" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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When the Bulls acquired Omer Asik on Draft Day 2008 in a three team trade with Portland and Denver, not too many Bulls fans noticed. The draft was already half-way into the second round and Jay Bilas, fresh out of measurements, sat in silence as Adam Silver basked in the glory of being David Stern without the vitriol. The Bulls had already made a more important acquisition that night, some might say. So important, the prospect of a 7'0 Turkish center who wasn't coming over for a few years anyway hardly seemed like a pressing matter. In the meantime, an exciting playoff series with Boston and the real possibility of signing LeBron James held us over. When Asik did come over in the summer of 2010, the reaction to his arrival bordered closer to indifference than any other concrete emotion. Kurt Thomas signed and figured to steal the majority of the backup center minutes. And how was Omer Asik pronounced anyway? I'm not sure anyone knew, and some of us still don't. We discussed him though and spoke about what we perceived to be his strengths and weaknesses -- all without seeing game tape or hearing a proper pronunciation of his name.<br />
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Asik was the great unknown two summer ago. The 7-footer who could solidify the second team's defense or the guy who wouldn't play at all. We had no idea. Did he speak English? It certainly didn't appear like it. When he did see the court, he was an easy target. He tired easily and attempted layups with the touch one might expect from the World's Strongest Man. He fell for pump fakes -- EVERY pump fake -- and looked so dumbfounded doing so he called into question the legality of pump fakes in Turkey. Then something clicked for Omer. He realized his size was his greatest advantage and the team was best served when he parked in the lane and stood straight up. By playoff time, Asik was a legitimate force off the bench, and arguably the second team's most important player. His block numbers don't jump out at you -- 2.0 Per 36 last year.* His value was in the number of shots he altered. Opponents driving to the basket struggled shooting over Asik and trying to get around him in mid-air. His presence in the lane was a big reason why the bench almost always extended leads last year and why Asik finished playoff games against the Heat and continues to finish games this year. Last February, most Bulls fans were more than willing to part with Asik for Courtney Fucking Lee. I think their opinions of him have changed. Asik is more than a Stacey King pun. He's a legit work-in-progress who would start for a number of teams in the league right now.<br />
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* - <i>According to Defensive Rating, a statistic used to measure an individual player's effectiveness on defense, Omer Asik is the 7th best player in the NBA. Defensive Rating is not without its flaws. A player's rating is influenced significantly by the players around him. For instance, Carlos Boozer is rated 13th among all players, and 76ers players (the best defensive team in the NBA thus far) occupy spots 1-5. Still, this is a pretty reliable rating system and I find it telling that Asik is the Bulls' top-rated defender. </i><br />
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I bring this up because Asik demonstrated his limitless potential on a single play yesterday. Early in the second quarter, John Lucas dumped the ball into Asik in the post and without hesitation he sunk a 12-foot hook shot over Kevin Love. It was a beautiful moment, and to my knowledge, the best scoring play of Asik's NBA career. Then I got to thinking: why can't he consistently hit that shot? Sure, he has NO touch and would probably have trouble consistently catching the entry pass, but I don't think developing a 12-foot hook shot in the offseason is too much to ask. Couple that shot with a few offensive put backs and Asik could easily average 10 points per game as a starter. The conditioning, defensive awareness, and free throw shooting should come with time. This sounds great, right? Well, maybe not.<br />
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Asik's contract is up after this year and even moderately skilled 7-footers in this league GET PAID. The Bulls can extend a qualifying offer to him worth about 2.3 million but it's unclear if he will accept it. Asik can accept the qualifying offer and become an <i>unrestricted</i> free agent in 2013, or decline the qualifying offer and become a <i>restricted</i> free agent after this season. He'll stand to make much more than 2.3 million dollars per year from another team, so declining the qualifying offer would be wise. Should he decline and become a restricted free agent the Bulls can match any contract offered to him. But if Asik gets a sizable offer like I think he will, the Bulls probably won't be in a position to match it. Asik has shown glimpses of his potential on both ends and it's possible that potential will be realized in a different uniform.<br />
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In many ways, Asik is still the great unknown. We don't know if he'll ever develop serviceable post moves, or if he'll be playing for a team that even needs him to score. We don't know if he'll be able to stay out of foul trouble playing starter minutes. We don't if his hands will improve -- a problem that costs him one or two easy baskets a game. We <i>do</i> know he's already one of the best rebounding and defensive centers in the game and it's kind of scary to think where the Bulls would be with only Noah and an unproven backup. This unnerving thought could be a reality next season. Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-879216767491677988.post-87686281577997529922012-01-09T17:02:00.000-08:002012-01-09T17:02:44.079-08:00The Inevitable Tandems<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.ballornuthin.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/dwight-howard_mopping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="306" src="http://www.ballornuthin.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/06/dwight-howard_mopping.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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Superstars change teams. A year and a half ago, following <i>The Decision</i>, 'pundits' tried to convince us otherwise. The most popular and definitive of statements to come from the mess: "Micheal Jordan never would have done <i>that</i>." 'That' being the most vile and disgusting atrocity one man could commit against another, verbalized in an all-too-serious tone. LeBron James' arrival in Miami was supposed to signify the end of competitive balance in the NBA and usher in an era were the league's superstars placed money (even though James took a pay cut), a desirable place to live, and playing alongside friends above winning. Winning, supposedly a player's sole concern in the good ol' days, is an easy concept to trumpet when players aren't making as much money or afforded the same less-restrictive free agent policies. These buzzword-driven discussions in the summer of 2010 didn't mean much. They all became different ways to say, I DON'T WANT THE BEST PLAYERS IN THE LEAGUE PLAYING FOR THE SAME TEAM, unless these players happen to collude their way on to the team I root for, in which case, I'm all for it.<br />
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Carmelo Anthony was last year's high profile player attempting to switch teams. Rather than wait for free agency, he sped the process up. He demanded a sign-and-trade because he could make more money signing the Nuggets' extension than signing as a free agent with the Knicks under the new CBA. Despite his selfish motives, I still thought he was doing the kind thing. He made it be known he wasn't going to resign with the Nuggets so they could get something in return for him. Denver did acquire a nice haul and to this day, various people on Twitter brings up how successful the Nuggets have been since they traded Carmelo. Cleveland was left with Antawn Jamison and no 2010 draft picks when LeBron left. Anthony to the Knicks was viewed as another instance of superstars teaming up.<br />
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Chris Paul was this year's Carmelo. He never explicitly stated where he wanted to go, but made it known he wasn't resigning with the Hornets. When news broke he was heading to the Lakers, the same outrage directed towards LeBron and Carmelo was not there. Part of this was probably due to the fact Kobe was no longer in his prime. David Stern, by vetoing the trade, also took plenty of heat and discussion away what the Lakers team would have actually looked like. When the Paul deal with the Clippers was finalized, the reactions were anything but disappointment. People were excited. LOB CITY! This excitement, no doubt, was motivated by the potential to see exciting basketball. But why not the same complaints of superstars teaming up? Is Blake Griffin not viewed as a superstar, or did the Clippers franchise, the NBA's model of futility, ease the burden? They're the Clippers, how much of a threat could they possibly be?<br />
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Dwight Howard has always been a popular target for criticism. He smiles too much. He's too nice. He can't control his temper. He's too mean. He doesn't have a post game. His entire persona is contrived, in the same way Shaq's was. He's bolting to LA to follow in Shaq's footsteps. Like Shaq, despite dominating the league, we'll speak of Howard in terms of what he could have been. Well, Howard developed a post game. He's curbed his on-court temper. For what it's worth (nothing), he's not smiling as much anymore. Unlike LeBron, Howard and Paul have been absolved of the blame surrounding their team's shortcomings. Where LeBron is typically accused of not getting it done with a good enough bunch, Howard and Paul are victims of incompetent front offices. For this reason, in addition to the general public's desensitization to superstar movement, Howard isn't being killed for wanting to switch teams.<br />
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I can't help but laugh at the talk surrounding Howard, though. No one is mad about Howard wanting to switch teams, but they are mad about which teams he wants to go to. His wish list is reportedly limited to the Nets, Lakers, and Mavericks. In IDEAL-NBA, where winning is everything, Chicago seems like a no-brainer. The Bulls have tradeable assets, including a center to replace Howard in Orlando. They have the best point guard in the league to complete a duo that makes more basketball sense than any of the other superstar pairings. But Howard doesn't want to go to Chicago. Speculation ranging from Howard's ego to Adidas' secret motives to Rose's disinterest in recruiting have all been used to explain away Howard's 'faulty' decision-making. We're back to square one. People cannot comprehend that a basketball player could be motivated by something beyond winning a championship immediately.<br />
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Save for his free throw shooting, there is very little observers can criticize about Howard's game anymore. He's developed the low post game his fans and detractors have been clamoring for. His mere presence practically guarantees a Top-5 defense. He is the NBA's best rebounder and at times its most dominant player. All that is left to bitch about are his team choices, which feels funny looking back to the negative feelings surrounding superstar movement only two summers ago. It seems that fans of the sport have accepted that superstars will change teams to play with other superstars. Then question becomes, how entertaining will these partnerships be for <i>me</i>, the fan? Fans, I think are no longer falling for 'good ol' days' sentiments that were never true to begin with. They feel superstars teaming up in desirable markets is almost inevitable, and just ask that these tandems make basketball sense.Joe Gemshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13483263139169757774noreply@blogger.com0