As a diehard, Portland-born, I bleed red, white and black Blazers' fan, I hate both of the teams. I hate their faces, I hate Ron Artest and his stupid haircuts and Kobe and his ridiculous, falling-away stroke that even ESPN SportScience cannot explain. Bottom line though, I am a basketball fan. I watched the whole series, out of spite more than anything.
The Lakers. A storied franchise. Second only to the Celtics in lore and rafter banners. Not second in douchebaggery however. First. Not by much, Paul Pierce is a savant when it comes to being a total asshat, and I am amazed at how a single championship ring (achieved only after combining 3 perennial All-Stars in the feeble, marrowless Eastern Conference) will go to someone's head [read: go to Pierce's, Garnett's and Allen's heads, collectively.). I mean, KG has always been great, Ray Allen always pure, Paul Pierce always shooting (even when they aren't going in), but you'd think they'd realize how awesome they're not with the histories they have. KG's Timberwolves limped along once Sam Cassell and Latrell Sprewell snowmobiled out of there. Ray Allen's Sonics were anything but Super, even with him and Rashard, and Paul Pierce did less than nothing with the Celtics. Well, he cried, but that's neither here nor there. All I'm saying is, if you were as truly great as your egos tell you you are, how come you never made it to the playoffs without each other? I hate Kobe Bryant more than almost anyone else, but he put the Lakers on his back and sherpa'd them into the post-season when he had to. LeBron as well. So, not to prick your inflatable fatheads or anything, but take a step back and humble yourselves.
But yes, Lakers take the cake of cockiness along with the O'Brien trophy this season. Every time Ron Ron opens his mouth, I hear stupidity and self-centered squeals sputter from his face-spout like the dodgeball champion at Selfish U. I mean, what a dick. Kobe is a great player, Top 10 Ever type of guard, but that doesn't detract from the complete asshole that he impersonates. Only 3 times in his massmedia-covered career have I ever seen him as anything less than a total dickhead. Once when he was on All That with AManda Bynes (but seeing the title of the program...figures), once when he was analyzing his own performance, and once when he called out Sasha Vujacic on shooting too much (only cuz I got to laugh at Vujacic). Which brings me to the self-proclaimed "The Machine". I'm sorry, but even RoboCop didn't give himself a nickname. When you have a game of 7 missed three-pointers, you are lightyears away from being automatic. You should go make out with Luke Walton and shut the hell up.
In spite of these opinions, I partook in viewing the series. Being as back and forth as it was, and seeing the record-setting shooting display by Ray Allen, I enjoyed myself for the most part. Rajon Rondo never ceases to urge a little pee out of my wiener each game. How he calculates the result of a pass at game-speed is beyond me, and is directly proportional to how pissed my boxers are at the end.
If you weren't able to catch a game, call PGE and get your electricity back on and turn on SportsCenter. If I were to call the series a dazzling display of skill, I may be overstating some aspects, but understating others. I said to my best friend the first game of the series, however Rondo goes, so do the Celtics and I was 100% correct. Not to be all Black Mamba and toot my own horn, but I hit the baby right on the head. It's too bad Paul Pierce didn't pay attention to when Rondo was on in the final two games, or else Boston would've added to the ceiling decorations. I swear, Paul Pierce jacks so many heat checks, you'd really think he'd realize he is ice-cold.
Derek Fisher was good this post-season, as well. Battle of the guards. He was never a standout full-game performer like Rondo could be, but he has the experience and wisdom of that owl in Fox & the Hound and he utilized it to take over quarters and dominate the little alien in Rondo. And as ugly as his playoff beard was, I'd much rather watch him play than the crack-baby that is Jordan Farmar. Are you kidding me? My left testicle on a bad hair day is more attractive than that moose-eared pumpernickel soup spoon. I have no idea what that means other than I wouldn't wipe my niece's pooped up baby-butt with his picture because he's that butt-ugly. Also, photos don't have the traction nor the moist comfort that baby wipes bring to cleaning up a diaper-laden toddler.
Also, despite my anti-aversion to the LA personnel, Shannon Brown makes my eyes bug like Jim Carrey in The Mask. The boy can JUMP. Daa-ayum! I don't know how if at all I could learn to levitate like that, but I plan on making it my life's work to find out. Dude can leap higher than Wile E Coyote on acme spring-slippers. The only other playoff dunks (apart from any and all Blazers jams) that got me that riles was when Robert Horry, dislocated shoulder and all, hyper-extended one-handed jam over some poor soul from the foul line (pre-Steve Nash clotheslining). Pretty sure I got "chocolate milk" on my sheets that night, that good.
All in all, although I am disappointed that Death and All His Friends* won yet another title in Los Angeles - seeing as how they are the one and only rival my TrailBlazers have now that the atheletes formerly known as the Sonics are no longer sucking it up in Seattle - I was mostly impressed with the touch and go nature of this years finals. In addition to that, I will say this, since I am in no way associated professionally with NBA or its affiliates: The refereeing in this years playoffs blew more than a Monica Lewinsky sex toy. Pretty sure my grandma could do better officiating and she is legally blind, part deaf and 100% dementia-laden. David Stern, do us all a favor and next time you think you wanna pay for an All-Star game in Princess Peach's modern-day sports palace, think instead of the integrity of the game, have the game in Portland and spend the excess dollar-age on decent officials. Thanks for considering.
From all of us here in the Rose City, and by all of us I mean me, have fun watching sports today. And always remember: it's not the sports that make life fun, it's the alcohol you ingest while watching them ;)
*Jack Nicholson and all the people he has on his payroll (Donald Sutherland, Phil Jackson, Luke Walton and that diabetes kid with the faux-stache).
