Mark the Day

Why don't I care about Philly? Because that, dear friends, is what I want my dark horse to look like. I wanted a sign, and I got one. This is the happiest I've been about basketball in a long, long time.

I still stand by all the informed fatalism I've been spreading outside of the confines of FD. To me, the underdog isn't just about beating the favorite. It's about showing strength, and a strong sense of purpose, in doing so. So it doesn't seem like a product of contingencies, like the Sixers' first win did, or can't be blamed on the bigger gun backfiring on itself. You need to be your own fucking charter school that runs on pure magnesium dollars. Then there's something being validated, other than the other team's ability to lose, or your plucky resourcefulness. I want an army that no one takes seriously but on this occasion.

Fly by the sun and burn up. That was Horford, screaming in the fallen Pierce's face; if the Celtics weren't already planning to clamp down and play serious, that ensured redoubled efforts on their part. But if only for one night, damn it, the Atlanta Hawks are somebody.

Also, I am 200% behind Doris Burke. She has my vote, and actually got me wondering if Josh Smith isn't best explained as a retarded LeBron. And now, everyone who gets by without League Pass and thinks they know their sport, can say they've been living in darkness.