Stakes is oiqwjeoifgjjry,
(KG has to be the one at the head of the table with the yellow-ish suit, Jaric's the one rocking the white hat by the wheel, Madsen is the shaggy one looking nuts next to Garnett, Wally is the faux-dapper one all the way to the left, TG is in the corner on the right looking even more nuts. . . THC, some help here?)
The T-Wolves' impending trip to Vegas is old internet news by now, but, at the risk of stepping on THC's toes, I did want to point out some all-too-obvious jokes that no one's made. First off, you take a roster that includes the unhinged McCants, the brittle, oversexed Jaric, and the Troubled Griffin himself to the gambling capitol of the world? You don't have to be on staff at AOL to understand the irony of that idea. If you were a grouchy cynic, you could also bring the sky crashing down in groans with the suggestion that the Wolves are playing a certain Slavic variety of this fine game of chance.
Then there's the fact that, as much as we've always thought of the Wolves as a classy organization that was temporarily hijacked by the madcap likes of Spree and Cassell, maybe they're far more interested in personality than we'd ever dreamt. KG, for all his warrior-like prowess and tireless motivation, is kind of a weirdo (at least on the court). Maybe this newest roster overhaul, and a trip to a place that can do nothing but foster insanity in the heart of team chemistry, is an attempt to get back some of what they lost what Spree and Cassell's departure. Not that it really needs to be cultivated, but some of these cats are young, and Taylor may want to send them a message that it's alright to be a loon—provided you play. Following the model of KG, as they should've forever ago, or chasing whatever it was that got them to the brink of the Finals two years ago.
If this is the Wolves undoing, at least no one can accuse Taylor and McHale of conservatism. T-Wolves, welcome to the timeless FreeDarko party; as THC pointed out last week, expect a long, long ride down for your troubles.