Watching the Cavs launch a five man protest against rebounding in the fourth quarter of tonight's game was extremely painful. Watching LeBorn James imitate the Great Number 8 from the Golden State was excruciating. I don't know what got into LeBron, but I think he may have been bitten by the curse of the Mamba at halftime. Too many times down the floor in the 4th, James left his teammmates standing around like the invisible men on the second best NBA team in Los Angeles. I wish I could say I don't know what happened to LeBron, but I do. All you had to do was watch him force drive after blocked out drive or shot after he doesn't have a shot to know the guy felt he had it all on his shoulders. Hopefully, he'll learn from this. Because frankly, he was plain awful. But give the Pistons credit. They made a few adjustments, and more importantly they have nothing against rebounding. I don't know which is more disgraceful, the Pistons having Flop Saunders as a coach, or the Cavs standing by haplessly as Detroit played tip-drill four consecutive times in the crunch. So let's be real here folks, if Larry Brown was still in Detroit, the Pistons are playing Miami right now. And if anyone else is coaching Cleveland, LeBron is sharing the ball (like he does when they win) and those statues watching the Pistons control every rebound down the stretch are leaving a time out with five feet up their asses. It may be too soon for LeBron, and I accept that, but I do have one wish. Please God, no more playoff scores in the 70's and 80's. I can't be the only who's aching to see basketball players actually put the ball in the hole like they did in the 80's, the 1980's that is. I'm sick of thug ball, sick of one man bands, and sick of Batman and Robin with special guest Steve Kerr, John Paxson or some other anonymous white guy. I want nothing more than to see the Cavs beat the Motor City Madmen. They're the original thugs. They ended the Laker/Celtics dynasty and ruined the NBA along the way. Worse yet, they ushered in the dark ages of the Jordan rules, the Zen Master, and offense so slow and lifeless it had fans longing for major league soccer season. I'd love nothing more than to see LeBron come of age at the Pistons expense. I'd like to see Donyell Marshall finally play up to half of his ability. I'd like to find out once and for all if Zydrunis Ilgauskis is Amish. (He sure looks Amish). The Pistons 2.0 are just not cool, and cool should count for something. Chauncey Billups looks like he just got off the short bus, and Rip Hamilton's Jason Voorhees look is really getting stale. The only thing Rasheed Wallace should ever guarantee is that he'll go to prison some day, and Tayshaun Prince, well something is just wrong there. If it wasn't for Ben Wallace, these Pistons are central casting for Revenge of the NBA Nerds. Right now, Shaquille O'Neal is one happy guy. Happy because the second best thing to not having to play the Pistons is playing them after they've been taken to the mattresses by a team that hasn't even learned how to win yet. Not that the Heat have it all figured out either. They're still figuring out who to play, what to do when and where, and most of all what the hell to make of White Chocolate and his propensity to make dazzling passes to players who aren't there. The Heat, finally coming together under their boss and deconstructionista, picked one heck of a time to figure it all out too. But here's the one thing all the guys in the playoffs have in common. Kobe Bryant is watching them. The guy who singlehanded ran the best player of the last decade and the best coach of the same period out of town in one fell swoop, isn't going to the dance. The guy who took two superstars in waiting and kept them waiting, sent Rudy T to the old folks home and collected a king's ransom for all that damage is watching. He and I both have the same chance of playing for the O'Brien trophy this year. I'm lovin' it. Mamba, Can you hear me?