The Spurs Are Making Me Xenophobic

Problem: Diving fucking foreigners who bring the ugliest side of soccer from their respective homelands to the courts of the NBA where IT DOESN'T FUCKING BELONG (not that it belongs in soccer, either). These punks obviously didn't grow up playing ball in the U.S. and have never heard of the phrase "no blood, no foul." Doesn't matter how long they've been playing basketball, they all started out playing soccer. It's like getting circumsized. They fall to the ground at the slightest contact and never land on their feet when they drive to the basket. The referees don't know what to make of it because they don't understand how a player can fall so hard and not be fouled. They kick their legs out from under them, fling their arms into the air, and give Oscar-worthy grimaces and groans--all tell-tale signs of a soccer swan dive. I even saw Tim Duncan do the clip-the-back-of-my-leg-with-my-other-leg move tonight that was originated by Cristiano Ronaldo. It's disgusting.

Solution: Ethnic cleansing, duh.

Ok maybe too radical, how about a series of mandatory American culture classes featuring classes on toughness taught by Bill Laimbeer or domestic spousal abuse taught by Jason Kidd. Let's teach them how to be real men.

Ooor, y'know what? Let's just keep it simple, interment camps.

I'm Gonna Go Out On A Limb...

...and say the Atlanta Hawks will steal, or more like wrestle, Game 5 away from the Celtics in Boston and win the series back in Atlanta. Yes, the same Atlanta Hawks who had a losing record in the regular season. Yes, the same Boston Celtics who had a league-best 66 wins. Incidentally that's one less win than Dallas had last year.

What I'm saying is, come playoff time, the regular season counts for nothing more than that one extra home game against your opponent. It's all about matchups. Dallas won 67 games last season and lost in the first round to another 8 seed, the Warriors, because they simply didn't matchup well against Nellie's breakneck speed offense and prolific 3-pt shooting. They worked for every ball with guys like Andris Biedrins inhaling rebounds. Players like Matt Barnes stepped up like no one could've imagined and provided that little bit of extra to push them past the finish line. And they had a talismanic leader in Baron Davis, a player that no one player on the Mavs could stop, supplemented by Stephen Jackson's timely perimeter shooting.

The Hawks present a similar challenge to the Celtics. They have finally found their sea legs, or playoff legs, in two games at home in Atlanta, and more importantly they've found a formula to beat the Celtics that they have yet to find an answer for. Al Horford is playing beyond his years as a rookie in his first playoff series and is consistently beating Perkins and Garnett at their own game and cleaning up on the boards. They're getting unexpected production from Josh Childress, especially on the boards, and a particularly unexpected emotional boost off the bench from Zaza Pachulia. Bibby is finally letting the game come to him, scoring 18 on only 8 shots and managing the game like a true point guard should. Josh Smith is having a stellar playoff debut, the kind of series that cements you as a star in this league. He's making his free throws, leading the brilliant defensive effort by example (7 blocks!), and maybe most importantly providing a reliable 2nd scoring option to Joe Johnson. Most noticeably the entire team is playing with a degree of poise that just about everyone, including myself, didn't think they were capable of. The best part of it all is that the Celtics didn't even play poorly. The Big 3 combined for about 60 which almost always paves the way to victory for Boston.

I can honestly say, without exaggeration, that Joe Johnson's performance tonight was one of the great individual playoff performances I've seen in my lifetime. I know many will be reluctant to agree with this sentiment because it's just the Hawks, because it's just Joe Johnson, because they believe the Celtics will win out in the end anyway. I'm fine with that. The truth is Joe Johnson scored 35, 20 in the 4th quarter, on above 50% shooting, against the arguably the best defense in the league (statistically 2nd best) featuring the Defensive Player of the Year. Those are the numbers, those are the facts. But let's go beyond the numbers. I watched this game. I watched the 4th quarter. I watched as Joe Johnson toyed, teased, and tortured the Celtics with a vast arsenal of fakes, drives, floaters, fallaways, pullups, pivots, trey pounds (3 pointers for you lames), and when needed the vital dish to one of his teammates. They had no answer for him. For all of his offensive prowess, Ray Allen was helpless guarding Johnson and with the likes of Smith, Horford and Bibby on the floor the Celtics had their hands tied. Kind of reminded me of McGrady's series vs Detroit (1 vs 8 seed) back when he was with the Magic, simply unstoppable.

I'll say it again, it comes down to matchups. But it also comes down to belief and effort. Put simply, the Celtics can't stop Joe Johnson. If they double him there's still Josh Smith who can drive and finish or at least get to the free throw line at will. If they can replicate the effort they showed tonight on defense and on the boards and if coach Mike Woodson (who?) can manage the rotation and timeouts as well as he did, then it just comes down to belief. And they believe. Did you see the Georgian sensation Zaza Pachulia give Garnett that forehead-to-forehead love tap? Could you have ever imagined that happening watching the first two games in Boston? Then again, could you have ever imagined that According to Jim would still be on television? I think I've made my point.

Where Referees Ruin Rivalries

(Bet he got called for the charge)

Suck on that alliteration, David Stern.

Where No Posts For Three Weeks Happen

This past weekend: where the start of the NBA Playoffs conveniently coincides with the deadline of an interminable group project and the best weather weekend of 2008 to briefly form THE FUCKING APOCALYPSE. But that dark cloud has since past, moving on...

The 2008 NBA Playoffs:

Where A.I. never left Philadelphia.

Where I've never seen a head coach as happy as Maurice Cheeks to win the first game of the first round of the playoffs.

Where the Orlando Magic are still the league's best kept secret.

Where Lamar Odom finally justifies the Caron Butler trade.

Where Maurice Cheeks, Byron Scott, Doc Rivers, Avery Johnson, and Mike D'Antoni (all former point guards) give hope to Knicks fans the world over with just two words: Mark Jackson (supplemented by three more words: Jeff Van Gundy).

Well that was fun, let me try it some more:

Wes Brown signing a new 4 year deal, where my hairline visibly recedes.

Wes Brown signing a new 4-year deal, where heart trumps head and you really can't imagine the boy wearing anything but United red.

15 goals in 3 games, where any doubt over who is heir to Sir Alex Ferguson's job is surely erased.

15 goals in 3 games, where any doubt over who should fill the left wing problem for England is erased. Hey, he may not be the sharpest tool in the ol' shed, but he sure knows how to polish one.

The movie theater on a Monday night at 10, where confused prepubescent boys go to watch humor way over their heads and brief full frontal male nudity with their parents.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall, where the title changes to Hi, Mila Kunis, Be My Wife? in my mind's eye.

12:35 am after writing inspiration from Jason Segel, where opportunity meets execution and writer's bloc finally ends. Enjoy the eye candy/my future wife.