The NBA regular season came to an end this week. I find it hard to get excited about the regular season. There's just so much to look forward to. I just can't wait for the two month long Bataan death-march of a playoff run that concludes some time in June, when I, along with every other casual NBA fan, have already become far more interested in football training camp than basketball. Honestly, what's not to love about the NBA? Anyways, even though the NBA boils down to a long lead into a playoff crescendo that I don't care about, the season did have some bright moments that I will endeavor to bring you, my dear readers, in sound bite form.
TNT did a number of NBA commercials featuring Ali G interviewing various NBA players. I'd be the first to say that the Ali G phenomenon is over (I haven't heard a "throw the Jew down the well" joke in months), but these commercials were pretty good.
My favorite was the one where he asked New Jersey Nets forward Richard Jefferson if he got into the NBA because his father, President Thomas Jefferson, forced the league to include him. Now I'd like everyone to go back and read that sentence again, and contemplate the level beyond mere name similarity upon which that joke works (Hint: think Sally Hennings). You can see the clip, along with a couple of others, at http://www.respectandtruth.com/.
The Dallas Mavericks, run by Hall-of-Fame nutcase Mark Cuban, have started a new entertainment trend around the league: fat, hairy men in ripped T-shirts doing choreographed dance numbers have replaced dance teams at arenas in Dallas and beyond.
Now I understand that many of you are probably disgusted, but I'm actually pretty excited. "Why?" you might ask. Four words: post-graduation job opportunity. Graduate schools love real world experience!
Kobe Bryant, after spending the last three years blowing up a great Lakers team while insuring that everyone in America hated him, anointed himself "Black Mamba," scored 62 and 81 points in single games, single-handedly led a team of chuckleheads to the playoffs and catapulted himself into the MVP discussion. I don't even know what joke to make here; the Mamba stuff belongs to ESPN's Bill Simmons and I've been accused of plagiarism enough; I'm not touching that with a ten-foot pole.
I guess my problem is that I don't really understand Kobe; he knows that he's despised and seems to feed off it on the court. Well, that's not true, I do sort of understand that. I have played pong against Brandon Fenn '07.
Coach Larry Brown missed the last three and a half games of the New York Knicks' season with severe acid reflux. The "I guess he couldn't stomach his team's losing" jokes have rained in from every talking head with a soapbox.
Well, let me be the first to say, "Shame on you, sports pundits! This is a serious matter!" After a night of too many Keystones and too much EBA's buffalo chicken pizza, I, for one, have certainly felt the acid grip of reflux on my innards, ruining what otherwise would presumably have been a productive Saturday morning. And if I were the coach of the Knicks, the drinking I'd be doing would certainly have caused one ridiculous case of heartburn, though it might have caused alcohol poisoning first.
Finally, a story that I think really deserved a lot more attention then it got: the greatness of Utah Jazz forward Andrei Kirilenko's wife. Since I'm sure you missed it, here's what happened: Kirilenko's wife, a blond Russian ex-pop star, offered him one no-strings-attached extramarital affair each year, reasoning that "If I know about it, it's not cheating."
Let's recap: Kirilenko is in the midst of a six-year, $86-million contract, he has a sweet nickname (AK-47. Get it?), he's married to a smoking hot blond Russian ex-pop star, and he gets to sample the cream of the NBA groupie crop once a year. Almost makes a guy want to get outside and practice his jump hook, doesn't it?
A word of advice, however, to my man Andrei: Sampling this free agent market could prove fraught with far more danger than looking for a new team during the off-season.
