Just when I thought nothing could possibly beat the sheer entertainment value of Robert Sarver's chicken flapping game, the Mavs and the Warriors engaged in one of the funniest cockfights in recent memory. I know I enjoyed the game waaaay more than I should have, but that was one of the most entertaining, ridiculous games I've seen.
First, you had Mike Dunleavy, Jr (Mike Dunleavy, Jr!) Stephen Jackson-ing* out after he got tossed for screaming at the ref in a way that would have made AI and Sheed proud. Seriously, who knew he had it in him?? And why do I think he's hotter than ever?
Don't let that pale exterior fool you! Underneath he's got the heart of a beast!
By the way, reason #159 why I love Marquis Daniels: while Dunleavy showed what a white kid from the right side of the tracks could bring to the game, Marquis just kept his chill self on the bench and covered his mouth with his shirt so people wouldn't see him cracking up. I love Marquis!
The rest of the game was just a comedy of errors. Dirk vs. Baron. Dirk vs. JRich. Josh Howard vs. Baron. Golden State fans vs. Bill Spooner. Hilarious. And is it just me or do Zarko Cabarkapa and Nikoloz Tskitishvili look exactly alike? And does Mike Montgomery go to the Mike D'Antoni school of hair care?
After watching this game - the second nationally televised Golden State game in like, what, 5, 6 years - you gotta feel for Golden State fans. You can't even say they've been jerked around because that implies at least some pleasure and after seeing/hearing all their pent up frustration during the game, clearly there has been no pleasure in the Chris Mullin era. At least Philly fans have been to the championships a couple of times. Bay Area fans...it's either the Warriors, the Kings, or the 49ers. It reminds me of the age old question - would you rather get the rack, the iron maiden, or the bonfire?
*Stephen Jackson-ing out refers to removing your jersey after you've been summarily tossed from a game, throwing said jersey over your head like a helicopter before throwing it into the crowd, and walking into the tunnel with your arms raised like it's Fight Night. By the way, this was also a scene in Mighty Ducks 3, but with Portman instead of Stephen Jackson...And yes there was actually a D3 and yes I did watch it.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Mavs @ Warriors
Posted by Courtside at 12:04 AM 0 comments
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
oka4.com
The male model also known as Emeka Okafor has now officially gone through the rite of passage necessary for all budding superstars - he launched his own website.
Check out www.oka4.com. The intro isn't as dope as Melo's and he doesn't have as many personal pictures (or languages) as Tony Parker or Manu Ginobili , but it's easy to navigate and his pictures are alternatively cute and/or HOT!
Damn! If there's one guy I would stalk in the NBA...
Posted by Courtside at 9:02 PM 0 comments
George Karl
Oh George. I think he's auditioning to be a member of my Detroit family.
It's nice, though, to see a coach with a sense of humor, even if it is all flabby and pale. At least George's fosters team unity and raises spirits, unlike a certain c-u-next-tuesday. I say good riddance, Paul Silas. Whatever his coaching prowess once was, he's clearly lost his mind. Perhaps he should have spent more time devising his X's and O's than his c-u-n-t's. Game over...Flip?
Posted by Courtside at 12:39 AM 2 comments
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Detroit What??
Do you ever look at the crowd while you're sitting at home watching the game - especially a really good game - on your non-HD TV and think, "They are so NOT worthy!" I get that feeling every time I see a sleeping kid, a bored housewife, the entire front row at a Lakers game, and more recently, after I got an email from my dear cousin, the JD/MBA. My cousin, one of the smartest girls I know, went to the Spurs-Pistons game with her parents, also equally intelligent people. However, this is the email I got the day after (my comments are in red, blood red):
Hey! I just checked out NBAsFinest (plug!) and saw the pic of the Spurs guy who got carried off the court. I guess that was Tim Duncan? (Oh dear God) Hahahaha. I still don't know everyone's name.
And I guess Larry Brown is in the hospital for some knee surgery or something? (hip, ego, whatever) So Joe Dumars was coaching. (Huh?) This was funny: dad was like, oh Joe Dumars is coaching. Mom said: Hmmm, some black guy is coaching the team. Then dad said: Joe Dumars is black. (Oh my God. They think Gar Heard is Joe D.)
I was dying after I got that email. I seriously just stopped laughing. Yeah I think I died a little inside realizing that members of my own family don't know who Tim Duncan is or that Detroit fans can't tell Joe from Gar, but what can I say, they're Republicans.
Posted by Courtside at 11:53 PM 0 comments
Monday, March 21, 2005
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Friday, March 18, 2005
Lakers vs Heat, Part II
Who says Brian Grant doesn't earn his $13,233,434 salary. Look at him coming off the bench and sticking his nose right in the middle of the action.
As entertaining as it was watching grown men analyze a handshake the way Carson Kressley analyzes a pink blouse, the highlight of the night - pretty much all the highlights of the night - came from D. Wade. The way he called out La Prima Donna and the refs before he headed in the locker room at halftime, but more importantly, the way he stepped up his game during the second half, shooting a hell of a lot better than 1 for 11. D.Wade even has LA writers' panties in a twist.
Mark Heisler of the LA Times writes:
"What time machine did this guy step out of? Here's what Miami's Dwyane Wade doesn't do after he dunks: scream; swing on the rim; pound his chest; pull back his jersey to show his heart; glare at anyone who dared to come near him while he was doing it; or point at the sky. This is a 23-year-old second-year player who gets to the basket at will, dunks over whoever's there and then runs back the other way. As he says, 'I want to act like I did it before.'"
You can't blame Mark Heisler or anyone else in LA for being excited. After years of having to endure Kobe, I can't describe how gratifying it is to see him get his comeuppance - and get SPANKED along the way! Sorry if my posts lately have been a D.Wade parade, but what can I say, he's hot. And I'd rather not mention the Oakland massacre, or Kings vs. Warriors. Jesus H. Christ.
Posted by Courtside at 2:07 PM 0 comments
The Big Aristotle Strikes Again
Two things you can count on Miami games for:
1. Randy Moss sightings (How cute does he look in his braces?? Okay, yeah, we'll discuss how I'm always attracted to the wrong guy in another post.)
2. The most "quotatious" quotes in the league.
This one comes from Shaq Daddy and shows he's evolved into a thinker of Maureen Dowd-ian proportions. Asked about the difference between Penny Hardaway, Kobe Bryant, and Dwyane Wade in the New York Post:
"The difference between those three is in 'The Godfather' trilogy. One is Fredo, who's never ready for me to hand it over to him. One is Sonny, who will do whatever it takes to be the man. And one is Michael, who, if you watch the trilogy, the Godfather hands it over to Michael. So I have no problem handing it to Dwyane."
Lebron James may have Nike, Sprite, SI, and Bubblicious, but Dwyane Wade's getting the biggest endorsement of all AND a trip to the Finals. Plus comparing him to Michael Corleone, aka Al Pacino, aka Scarface = INSTA street cred (something the Golden Boy formerly known as Kobe Bryant exponentially lacked). I mean have you seen an episode of Cribs??? Who doesn't have Tony Montana on his wall? (Answer: white people.)
Flash Corleone, the keys to the kingdom are yours for the taking. Now don't go around rapin' nobody. Allegedly.
Posted by Courtside at 12:31 AM 0 comments
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
NYC Flash'd
"Life's not measured by the number of breaths one takes, but by the moments that take your breath away."
-Pat Riley on watching Dwyane Wade play
Still the standard of coaching elegance and eloquence after all these years (though Pop's giving him a run for his money).
But my favorite quote from Miami's brain trust comes from the much less refined but equally irrepressible Stan Van Gundy. After the famous Van Gundy temper exploded following a Shandon Anderson turnover in a game against San Antonio, assistant Erik Spoelstra (the young one) wrote SVG a note saying, "You were an absolute lunatic last night."
SVG's response: "I'm like 40 pounds overweight. I have high cholesterol. I could check out at any time, and he's throwing away an outlet pass."
Oh Stan. He's gaining on his brother for my 3rd favorite coach spot.
Posted by Courtside at 3:28 PM 0 comments
Monday, March 14, 2005
Sports' True Mad Genius (And It Ain't Bill Belichick)
The only modern coaches I can think of given the label of "genius" are Bill Belichick and Phil Jackson. And of those two, one of them was left mumbling "serenity now, serenity now" in the Indian Ocean, thereby leaving Bill Belichick standing alone in the pantheon of coaching genius. However, Belichick has been just been dethroned by a man who gives new meaning to the word "unflappable."
It's not always what you do that defines your legacy but what you cause other people to do (case in point, the anti-mastermind John Chaney). Belichick may have caused some long faces - insert Peyton Manning joke here - but it takes a true genius, an unparalleled master of gamesmanship to reduce a man worth an estimated half a billion dollars to flapping his arms like a chicken and screaming "Varsity! Varsity!" like some crazy homeless man who pees on himself.
Enter the one, the only Gregg Popovich.
And the man who you'll next see trying to wash your windshield as you get on the freeway, Mr. Robert Sarver .
For those who don't know what happened or didn't get to read my post before Blogger erased it (argh!) , Sarver (the poor man's Jerry Colangelo and the Suns' new San Diego-based owner) was so agitated that Pop decided not to play Tim Duncan and Manu Ginobili in the last Spurs-Suns meeting of the season that he stood courtside flapping like a chicken and yelling "Varsity! Varsity! Varsity!" It was even funnier considering the Suns barely beat an apparently J.V. starting lineup of Tony Parker, Bruce Bowen, Rasho Nesterovic, Robert Horry, and Brent Barry.
Pop's response: "In life, a lot of questions don't get answered for us. I still don't know where Jimmy Hoffa is buried. I don't know who `Deep Throat' was in Watergate. But now I know who was under the `San Diego Chicken' outfit all of those years."
Genius. Pure genius.
PS. If the San Antonio fans are anything like their Dallas counterparts, they'll have shirts made up the next time the Suns come to town saying "Thanks for the practice" or "Suns: Not yet ready for Varsity." I'd love to see the Coyote hand Sarver a chicken suit and flap his arms until he put it on. I love this game.
Posted by Courtside at 8:49 PM 1 comments
The Christies on Real Sports (HBO)
Check local listings. TiVo.
Need I say more??
Posted by Courtside at 8:12 PM 0 comments
Blogging Issues
Is anyone else having problems using Blogger? The last couple times I've tried to post, either I get an error message before it publishes or it won't let me create or edit any posts. I don't want to complain about a free service but damn, I've lost at least 3 posts, or what would have been posts. I love how I can remember every line from The Mighty Ducks but I can't for the life of me remember what I wrote 5 minutes ago.
Posted by Courtside at 8:00 PM 0 comments
Thursday, March 10, 2005
John Thompson
I love how John Thompson has become the Barbara Walters of the NBA. First, he made KG cry. Tonight he showed us Baron Davis' Jamie Foxx side with Baron's cuter than cute grandma. I'm waiting for the ultimate showdown though, when the master interviewer takes on the master interviewee: Thompson vs. Stern. Live and uncensored. Oh I'd love to see that. Thompson badgering him with "David, give it to me straight. I don't want a PC answer. I want the truth," while David Stern sits there with that demonic smile plastered on his face while his innards stew.
After that, I think Coach should start a View-esque show called The Bench. Let's see, Magic could be Joy Behar, the wise cracking one (although flashbacks to The Magic Hour would make us cry more than laugh); Star Jones would be played by the only other person whose girth we would mock with equal glee - Sir Charles; the on air disaster also known as Debbie Matenopoulos would be played by the equally challenged Tom Tolbert until he was canned for Steve Kerr.
Ahh which grown ass man is John Thompson going to reduce to tears next...
By the way, what the fuck is Michael Jackson thinking showing up to court in his pajamas??? Even Ron Artest and Stephen Jackson ain't THAT crazy!
Posted by Courtside at 10:28 PM 0 comments
IMDB Allen Iverson
Have you ever IMDB'd AI? Trademark: Skipping practice. Dang, you say one thing and you're labelled for life. At least he's cute.
He even makes the headbop look cool. Eat your heart out, Q!
Posted by Courtside at 9:47 PM 1 comments
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
The Real World
So I'm at the gym and the Nazi receptionist absolutely refuses to change the TV channels leaving me with
a) MTV;
b) Convert to Christianity NOW, aka the Kirk Cameron channel;
c) Infomercials.
Now something you have to know about me is that I abhor MTV. It's the television equivalent of Kobe Bryant - I feel physically ill after watching something so fake and self-absorbed, but I'll watch when I know someone I like is going to be on (like this weekend when Dirk gets Punk'd).
So after 20 min of crazed Bush supporters and at-home rotisseries, I glanced over at MTV and who do I see next to the crazy looking white boy? David Harrison. I was like what the fuck is David Harrison doing on the Real World. He's crazy looking white boy's best friend.
Then he caused a fight between white boy and his girlfriend - even then, DH causing all that chaos. Anyway, the night ended with WB walking DH home and stopping to have a heart to heart with him on a bench under the moonlight. So sweet. No wonder people in Philly threw chairs at the Real Worlders.
Anyway, my point? The Mavs better beat the Lakers tomorrow. :)
Posted by Courtside at 10:55 PM 0 comments
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Ennui
Sorry I haven't posted in awhile. I'm feeling a bit despondent of late. I don't know if it's because I've just witnessed the last hurrah of the Kings I know and love...now it's the Kings I have to read the backs of their jerseys to know. (Not really...okay just Brian Skinner.) It helped though seeing the way Kenny Thomas and a lineup minus Brad Miller and Cuttino Mobley played on Sunday. But it was weird watching the dynamic between Mike and Peja.
What I loved most about the Kings was their camaraderie - the fact that Chris Webber and Mike Bibby showed up for their Tonight Show appearance in matching sweatsuits.
The fact that the whole bench was cheering when Mike got his triple-double. The fact that they were the anti-Lakers.
Watching the game on Sunday against the Pistons and seeing Mike and Peja walk back to the bench after a huge Kings run in complete silence and utter indifference towards one another...it wasn't quite Shaq vs. Kobe XXV, but it wasn't the Kings either.
Before that, it was seeing Jermaine O'Neal's mini tantrum against Shandon Anderson and the refs too chickenshit to call anything in the Jermaine as Mother Teresa era. Now I defended Jermaine O'Neal more than anyone else after the brawl, but that doesn't mean I think he's an angel incapable of ever acting out of line. He kicked a guy. T him up.
And Mo, darling Maurice Cheeks. I just hope he ends up on a team where the management has some balls and there's NO MORE POPCORN!
And the T'wolves. Watching them lose to the Clippers, the Warriors, and the even sorrier Jazz...and then seeing KG break down on national TV. Damn.
Aiight - I'm done moping. I just read the funniest thing on Page 2 (Bill Simmons' intern contest):
What do you think was the funniest moment in sports history and why?
For those watching the live feed of the Pistons/Pacers brawl, the moment when Jamal Tinsley emerged from the locker room brandishing a dustpan ready to take on all comers.
Oh how could I forget Jamaal and the dustpan. I'm over my ennui. I'm now going to spend the next 10 minutes Googling "Jamaal Tinsley, dustpan."
Posted by Courtside at 3:08 AM 3 comments
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
In Defense of C-Webb
Since the trade, one of the things I keep hearing about Chris Webber is how he never takes the last shot. Tony Kornheiser mentioned it on PTI and Skip Bayless referred to it as one of C-Webb's "loser intangibles." Clearly neither man has watched a Kings game this season or read my blog. (Assholes!) If anything, I thought C-Webb was taking too many last minute shots, meaning HE'S WILLING TO TAKE THE LAST SHOT! For the love of God, you'd think Stat Boy would have mentioned Game 7 vs. Minnesota last year, or the Milwaukee game Dec. 14th, or the Blazers game Jan. 18th, or my personal favorite, the Rockets game on Jan. 28th. That was the game where Bibby inbounded the ball and Chris faked the pass back to him then made the game-tying shot that forced overtime. It was beautiful...Of course if would have been even better if the Kings had actually won that game, but let's not quibble over spilt milk.
Anyway, I know C-Webb and his peg leg have faults aplenty. But give the man his due. If you're going to fault him, find something tangible.
Posted by Courtside at 2:56 AM 2 comments
If They Mated: Lebron James and Steve Francis
The result:
He'd have Mama Lebron's talent as an 18-year-old and try to jump to the pros early, but like Papa Steve, he'd end up running his mouth faster than he runs the floor, or 4-0.
Posted by Courtside at 2:30 AM 0 comments
Back From My Mercy Mission
Sorry I haven't posted in awhile. I went to Dallas to reason with my favorite German on his very ill-advised sweatband, and in a fit of rage, he goes and shaves his head!
Personally, I think he really did it to show some solidarity to his new teammate and reigning "Whitest Guy in the NBA," none other than Keith Van Horn. Or perhaps he did it to distance himself from fellow shaggy blonde Chris Andersen - and really, after the Slam Dunk contest, who can blame him. Either way, ding dong the sweatband is gone!
Posted by Courtside at 2:07 AM 0 comments