There's No Even in Beating
First off, I'll be frank about something. Three and a half games in one day is a lot. By the time that Warriors entrancement came down, I was in my own kind of daze, had some things to tend to, and slightly off my usual ecstatic viewer game. So pardon if this lacks the usual trembling assonance.
My favorite shit ever was the halftime analysis during Warriors/Mavs. Magic was strangely disgusted by Golden State, who had the same effect on me as yellow jackets, sharks and cop cars with the sirens on. Kenny was talking like his house had just been robbed, especially when he exclaimed that Al Harrington was (roughly) "a big guy, playing undersized power forward, but doing things in the paint." It reflected how I felt about the first two quarters: lots of mayhem and spirit from Golden State, though with that weeping sense that Dallas had competence on their side. They were also so hungry, and so seat-of-the-britches, that I felt disaster knocking on every portal. After the break, though, all of a sudden they got legit. While I don't want to trot out "playoff basketball" again, when Baron Davis took over the whole operation tightened up. That game came down to a team rationing out their garrulous playmaking and strategic gambles. Like if you had an entire team based around this year's version of Stoudemire.
When the TNT crew all broke down and praised Baron, it came true to me that we could be looking at this year's other major postseason lightning rod. At for FreeDarko's purposes: I was so over-amped about T-Mac yesterday that I'm not even going to link to it—you can scroll down a bit for that. Davis, however, has his own kind of mild sorrow around him, and Billups grouped them together as gusty kings of a Deadwood-like East that gets dismissed as an uncivilized badlands. So feel free to start shedding all the tears when he wins the next one for them, too.
Oh, and I really underestimated the Nuggets. I guess I hadn't recognized just how immense (in game, not girth) Nene's suddenly become. And Melo really, really came to show something today, making it impossible for Bowen to contain him. So both got all the room they needed, and suddenly Nene and Camby are looking like a frontline to fear. If you don't see me bouncing about over this one, it's because they looked that good. The Nuggets handled biz, the scorers got their points, and the Spurs lost to the better team.
Kobe got tired. Though that first half allowed me to realize something about him: fuck LeBron. Kobe is darn close to basketball-perfect, and without so many mediocre tendencies. Henry asked me once if at some point, LeBron's shortcomings become more than just obstacles to ascension. Like when do they turn into flaws? I'm sure I'll change my tune if he gets into a meaningful series and has to send the tide across, but for now I'm fed up with James.
My one marginally scout-like thought for the day: when Barbosa curls under the basket or cuts around to it, he always swings out a little too wide. Like his arms are sooooo long that he needs all kinds of extra room for his shot.
These are the scattered thoughts of an alligator. I found out today that chimps cannibalize rival gang members that they kill in dust-ups. I will never be the same.
Whoa. . . Andrei Kirilenko breakdown?
PLAYOFFS 2007: CHANGE NEEDS YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Update: Some Links
-My esteemed FanHouse colleague Miss Gossip put together this ultra-essential NBA Playoff Hair Watch.
-The esteemed Kelly Dwyer directed me toward this video of Derek Fisher being interviewed today in Jazz practice. Basically, he confirms everything we've always suspected about AK-47's decline, both on the court and in the mental. Actually, hearing that dude is incredibly frustrated with the team and his role in it, to the point of nervous collapse maybe, makes me fall in love with him all over again.