I had planned on getting this out a little earlier today, but then these little things called life and work intervened. I hate when inconsequential stuff like that gets in the way of my blogging. Here are my post-Game 4 thoughts on the Dallas Mavericks-San Antonio Spurs second-round series...

San Antonio Spurs vs. Dallas Mavericks

Top Gun

Watching the game Monday night I thought of the movie Top Gun. Maybe it was the way Devin Harris was soaring down the court? Perhaps it was Michael Finley fearlessly flying in for a dunk? It possibly could've been that Tim Duncan's cool, calm demeanor and three rings reminded me of Iceman. Or Avery Johnson's Viper-like instruction? Or Greg Popovich ending up with egg on his face like Jester. Regardless, can't you see Duncan as Iceman rolling up on Dirk Nowitzki (who, as the greatest Dallas Maverick ever, has to be Maverick) and Jason Terry (Goose) with Manu Ginobli by his side (he's obviously Slider, he even has the nose)...

Kilmer and Cruise's onscreen magic can't touch the NBA Playoffs.

Iceman: You two really are cowboys.

Maverick: What's your problem, Kazanski?

Iceman: You're everyone's problem. That's because every time you go up in the air, you're unsafe. I don't like you because you're dangerous.

Maverick: That's right! Ice... man. I am dangerous.

Everyone credits Phoenix for bringing back high-octane offense, but it was really the Dallas Mavericks. Where do you think Steve Nash developed his style of play? Nowitzki, Terry, and the rest of the Mavs are indeed dangerous now that they are have added solid team defense to their attack. The Mavericks' speedy brand of small ball is giving the plodding, methodical Spurs fits. It almost seems like the Spurs didn't take the Mavs seriously until now, which is too late. The Spurs messed around with the Sacramento Kings and let that first-round series go to six games. Meanwhile, the Mavs swept the Memphis Grizzlies in four games. Dallas was well rested and ready to run San Antonio's old and tired legs out of the playoffs. That is exactly what they are doing. Right now, the Mavs are playing the best basketball of any team in the playoffs.

Tell me Taylor Hicks doesn't look like Cuban.

You have to give credit to both Mavericks Owner Mark Cuban and Head Coach Avery Johnson. First off, Cuban and management made the unpopular decisions to let Nash and Finley walk. These moves paved the way for the success they are now enjoying against the defending NBA Champions. Nash and Finley leaving town alleviated a roster logjam and allowed younger and more athletic players like Jason Terry, Devin Harris, Josh Howard and Marquis Daniels to get plenty of burn. Also, the acquisition of DeSagana Diop has paid dividends. Duncan still put up big numbers, but Diop really did an excellent job against Big Fundamentals. Diop's defense during the overtime period, where he blocked Duncan at least once, was especially impressive. This younger, more athletic version of the Mavs also possesses both grit and toughness, something that Finley and Nash seem to lack at times. Veterans Nowitzki and Jerry Stackhouse are partially responsible for this, but I look at this team's toughness more as a reflection of its coach.

The Little General

At first I was unsure how Johnson would fare as a Head Coach in the NBA. He is relatively young, lacking in stature, and has a cartoonish voice that is hard to take serious. I wondered at first if his players would write him off. That hasn't happened at all. Johnson has put his foot down and commanded that his players adopt the hard-nosed style that he was known for as a player. The Mavs have responded and are playing the smart, scrappy ball that Johnson used to while remaining potent offensively.

Johnson's in-game coaching has also been rather impressive. His Game 2 decision to insert speed demon PG Devin Harris into the starting line-up-a move that forced the Spurs to also go small--was a masterstroke. San Antonio Spurs Head Coach Greg Popovich hasn't yet found a way to counter Johnson's bold move.

The Little General has been remarkable since replacing Don Nelson.

Pop has let Johnson dictate the style of play in this series, which has effectively eliminated the size advantage that the Spurs should have. In Game 4, Spurs big men Nazr Mohammed, Rasho Nesterovic, and Fabricio Oberto combined to play one measly second. Spurs F Robert Horry played less than 10 minutes in the contest. That means that for nearly 40 minutes Pop left Duncan on an island, forced to fend off the cutting and slashing Mavs' offensive bombardment by his lonesome. Bad move, Slick. You can't beat the Mavs by utilizing the Mavs' own style of play. I'm shocked that Pop hasn't used Mohammed more. Mohammed has the offensive repertoire to eat Mavs C Erick Dampier's lunch offensively. For now, Johnson is eating Pop's lunch.

For instance, what was Pop telling his guys when they were down 5 with 30 seconds left? The Spurs refused to foul. What were the Spurs thinking? That Dallas was going to simply give them the ball back? (By the way, I am shocked at how poorly teams have handled late-game situations during these playoffs. It's just embarrassing.) Mostly, veteran G/F and shutdown defender Bruce Bowen is to blame for this. He selfishly refused to foul because he didn't want to pick up his sixth foul and foul out. Pop and his boys seem unstoppable when they are up and everything is clicking, but not when things get tough. Don't believe me? Then why have Pop and Duncan together never recovered from a 2-1 series deficit? Obviously, after winning two of the last three NBA Championships the Spurs think that maintaining the status-quo will be good enough for another championship banner in the rafters. It isn't.

While Pop is staying put and employing the same tired Spurs formula, Johnson has been aggressive. Johnson has allowed Terry to shoot at will, a decision that has given J.T. supreme confidence. Terry hit one big shot after another in Game 4, the sickest being that rainbow jumper he drilled over Duncan. Another bold move is Johnson having Harris push the ball at a frantic pace. Sure, this resulted in some bad turnovers, but this bit of strategy accomplished way more good than it did bad. Not only did the Mavs get a ton of transition buckets, but also the pace Harris set seemed to wear down the Spurs. I could go on and on about the genius of Johnson in this series, but I won't. This is all you need to know-the guy is a lights-out coach. He's one of the best in the business. Easy.

My Forecast

Mavericks in 6... Although the Spurs could be eliminated in Game 5 if Popovich doesn't make the necessary adjustments. Honestly, I think the Mavs have a chance to win it all. It's a pity that the Mavs don't have Keith Van Horn healthy right now. Maybe he will be healthy by the NBA Finals (That's right, I'm already predicting a NBA Finals birth for the Dallas Mavericks... Taylor Hicks, whoops, Mark Cuban can finally rejoice!).

Two fantastic NBA Playoff games took place last night. Here are my post-game reflections...

Detroit Pistons vs. Cleveland Cavaliers

Rasheed doesn't just throw headbands, he throws fits.

Guaran-Sheed?

Being a die-hard Indiana Pacers fan, let's just say that I'm not particularly fond of Detroit Pistons star forward Rasheed Wallace. I can't stand the way he runs his mouth. I can't stand his wannabe-Dirk Nowitzki game. I can't stand the way he whines and protests after every single foul that is called on him. I can't stand when he throws temper tantrums and flings off his headband. I can't stand that bird poop stain on the top of his dome. Most of all, I can't stand his "Guaran-Sheeds." I hate "Guaran-Sheeds."

As you can imagine, last night I took great pleasure in watching a "Guaran-Sheed" victory prediction go up in smoke for the first time. He previously was 3-0 after making these pre-game predictions, with two of those "Guaran-Sheed" wins coming against my beloved Pacers. I was at the second of those two games--Game 4 of last year's second-round Pacers-Pistons playoff series--where I witnessed Wallace and teammate Chauncey Billups tear my Pacers apart firsthand. That was the last time I saw my favorite player of all time--Reggie Miller--play in person. That was also the last time I went to the Pacers state-of-the-art venue Conseco Fieldhouse. I still have this nasty, bitter taste in my mouth. I-puked-and-didn't-brush-my-teeth nasty.

Monday night's Pistons-Cleveland Cavaliers game was also Game 4 of a second-round playoff series. I guess Wallace and the Pistons think that they can waltz to the Finals every year simply by guaranteeing victories every time any Eastern Conference team comes within striking distance in a series. LeBron and his Cavs disagreed. The Cavs won the game 74-72 and sent the series back to Detroit tied 2-2.

Another problem I have with Wallace's promises is that he doesn't always show up after making these predictions. Last night Wallace looked disinterested. He was so out of it that when the "Kiss Cam" made its way around the arena during a timeout, he playfully was trying to kiss Billups. He scored a pedestrian 7 points and ended up sitting out a large portion of the game with what seemed to be nothing more than a lightly sprained ankle. That also bugs me, because most so-called NBA gurus rave about the Pistons toughness. Nowitski has returned to play after losing teeth, spraining ankles, etc... Why has he been labeled "soft" while Wallace gets "tough?" It simply doesn't make sense.

I think guarantees are becoming far too prevalent in sports today. Back in the day, these predictions were reserved for the likes of the NBA Finals and the Super Bowl. For example, flashy Cincinnati Bengals wide receiver Chad Johnson could be a meteorologist for the local news with all the forecasting he does. Wallace is making his "Guaran-Sheeds" such an annual ritual that his latest assurance hardly even generated any news. In my opinion, if you make one of these guarantees you need to A.) Be the best player and a leader on your team; and B.) Follow it up with a monster stat line.

Wallace is not the best player on his team (he's the fourth best, for the record), he's' not a leader, and he didn't even come close to a monster stat line last night. He finally wrote a check that his butt couldn't cash. I suppose that's what Wallace meant when he made the post-game comment "The sun even shines on a dog's ass some days." This is suddenly a series as the Pistons biggest dog is now feeling some heat being applied to his rear end.

Anderson Varejao, er, I mean Sideshow Bob.

Sideshow Bob no longer

During the Pistons-Cavaliers game last night, I couldn't help but notice the inspired play of young Brazilian Cavs forward Anderson Varejao. The guy resembles the character Sideshow Bob from The Simpsons, but last night his game was no sideshow.

Varejao was all over the court, playing like the second coming of Dennis Rodman. Not only did he have 10 points and 6 rebounds in 28 minutes, he matched Ben Wallace's intensity, and made countless hustle plays. His biggest play of the night was a charge he took from Chauncey Billups with 30 seconds left in the contest. Cavs Head Coach Mike Brown gave this beauty of a quote as a response "Andy's charge was huge. He has about the quickest feet of any guy that I know that is seven feet, or six-ten and some hair. He's great. His feet are extremely quick and he is a very smart basketball player."

Varejao will definitely have to maintain this level of both play and energy for the Cavs to have a shot at stealing this series from the Pistons. However, he is playing the finest basketball of his relatively short career, so I think both he and the Cavs have an outside shot.

My Forecast (No, this is not a "Gauran-Sheed")

I'm still thinking Pistons in 7... But, if I were Detroit I'd try to close this baby out in six games. They do not want to give LeBron James the opportunity to knock them out with clutch heroics late in Game 7. No matter how clutch Mr. Billups thinks he is.

San Antonio Spurs vs. Dallas Mavericks

Coming soon...

Last week I wrote this blog post, "David Blaine: Pushing the boundaries of sport", that became somewhat controversial within the Fox Sports Blog community. Some readers liked the post, while others did not. Some readers understood my point of view and what I was trying to accomplish. Those readers tended to enjoy the piece. Others did not understand my aim and voiced their disapproval. One reader even went as far as calling the post "asinine" and the "most absurd and insulting thing" that he had ever read. At first, some of the criticism and comments got to me. Then I remembered an exchange between Matt Damon and Robin Williams from Good Will Hunting that really put things into perspective for me...

Sean: Thought about what you said to me the other day, about my painting. Stayed up half the night thinking about it. Something occurred to me... fell into a deep peaceful sleep, and haven't thought about you since. Do you know what occurred to me?

Will: No.

Sean: You're just a kid, you don't have the faintest idea what you're talkin' about.

They may not be kids, but you get the point. A few people read my blog and thought that they had me pegged, just like Will thought he had Sean pegged after seeing his painting. Not hardly. Look at this comment for example:

"Some people are just smart enough to be jaded, because they actually pay attention to the world around them, and don't take themselves and others so seriously."

Smart enough to be jaded? That is the most sad and pathetic statement that I have ever heard. I live in L.A. and because of that people totally expect me to be jaded. I am the farthest thing from being jaded. That's why I am out here, pursuing and living my dreams. I believe in myself . I believe this is truly the land of opportunity. I believe that God made us to be extraordinary, not extra ordinary. I also believe that not everybody is simply in it for the money. Some of us, hopefully many of us, are doing what we do strictly because we are passionate about our craft. Most of all, I believe that great things can, and often do, happen.

As a sports fan I share a very similar philosophy. How can I possibly be jaded after what I have witnessed?

George Mason making the final four. Tom Brady, a sixth round draft pick, out-Montana-ing Joe himself. The 1980 U.S. Hockey Team. Michael Jordan, who was cut from his high school team, going on to become the greatest basketball player of all time. Kerri Strug. Cal Ripken's iron-man streak of playing in like a million games in a row. The Doug Flutie hail mary. Kobe scoring 81. Christian Laettner's catch-and-shoot buzzer beater. Derrick Thomas recording seven sacks in one game as a tribute to his late father. The improbable 2003 World Champion Florida Marlins (special thanks to Steve Bartman). John Elway's drive. And most of all, autistic high school basketball manger Jason McElwain finally getting his shot and raining threes on his way to putting up 20 points in a mere four minutes.

And that's just from the top of my head. If that's not enough, I have two examples that are a little more intimate. One of my boyhood hero, and another one that I witnessed in person.

The Knick-Killer Thriller

The first example is my boyhood hero Reggie Miller. On May 7, 1995 Miller-who had to wear Forrest Gump brackets on his legs as a boy to correct leg deformities-pulled off the most amazing thing that I have ever seen take place on a basketball court. What makes it even more amazing is that he accomplished this on basketball's biggest stage, Madison Square Garden aka "The World's Most Famous Arena", in a playoff game. In the waning seconds of the game, Miller's Indiana Pacers trailed their biggest rivals, the New York Knicks, by six. Everyone thought that the game was over. Everyone in the crowd. Everyone watching the game on TV. Everyone playing in the game. Everyone. Everyone except Miller.

BAM! He nailed a three. Then he stole the ensuing inbounds pass from Knicks guard Greg Anthony... BLAM! Another triple. Suddenly, the game was tied. Spike Lee and every other Knicks fan in the house had been silenced. Knicks guard John Starks was fouled. He stepped up to the line and... missed the first free throw... and the second. Choke job. Miller somehow snagged the rebound away from all of the big fellas underneath the glasss and was fouled in the process. He chalked-up his hands, stepped up to the line and... nailed them both. Game over. Miller scored an insane 8 points in 8.9 second to lead the Pacers to an impossible victory that allowed them to ultimately win the series.

Most guys pop in Rocky I-IV (I am still in denial about the V and upcoming VI installments) when they need inspiration. Not me. I hop online and watch Reggie Miller go nuts. It reminds me that it's truly never over until that last tick comes off of the game clock, both in the world of sports and in our own lives.

The Hall Way to a Sea of Red

Being born in Kansas City and raised in Missouri, I am a Kansas City Chiefs fanatic. Regardless of where I have lived since, which is all over this country, I always make it back to Arrowhead Stadium at least once every year. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the Chiefs' venue, you'd be hard-pressed to find a louder stadium with better fans anywhere in the NFL. That place is an 80,000-people-strong sea of red that blows the decimal meter to smithereens.

Last season the first game I went to was the fourth game against the Philadelphia Eagles. My brother Zach, an equally devoted Chiefs fan and a Kansas City resident at the time, had even scooped up two fifth-row endzone seats for us. We were jacked up to say the least. Our Chiefs were looking strong at 2-1 (the lone loss being at Denver on Monday Night Football) with both of our running backs, Priest Holmes and Larry Johnson, rolling. The Eagles were also 2-1 and had gone to the Super Bowl and nearly won the year before. This was a big game. The stadium was rockin'.

The Chiefs received the opening kickoff and came out on fire. Priest was having his way with the Philly defense and QB Trent Green and WR Eddie Kennison were hooking up right and left. The Chiefs built a 17-0 lead and worked the home fans into a frenzy. Zach and I were four big beers deep and were playfully jawing with some pretty cool Philly Fans that were wearing custom-printed Eagles "81" jerseys with nameplates that read "Misin-Linc" (which seem completely ridiculous now after Terrell Owens' exodus from the "City of Brotherly Love", but I digress).

Then the Chiefs blocked a 40-yard field goal and got the ball back with good field position. We thought the game was over. Then on 2-and-14 Green went to the well one too many times. He completely telegraphed a pass to Kennison that Eagles CB Sheldon Brown picked off and took to the house. The score was now 17-7. The crowd was dead quiet. My brother and I put both our beers and our heads down. Why, Trent? Why? This was a game again. The "Misin-Linc" crew was suddenly riled-up and talking smack to essentially the whole stadium (Especially to this vocal Chief's fan who they kept calling Freddie Mitchell. Who, other than being black and having cornrows, looked nothing like Fred-Ex whatsoever.). We were worried. The defending NFC Champs were back within striking distance, and Philly was going to receive the ball to open up the second half. However, with 5 minutes left in the second quarter, there was still ample time for our Chiefs to score again and regain control of the game

It wouldn't even take that long. Before my bro and I could even pick back up our beers, Chiefs Pro Bowl Return Specialist Dante Hall had broken the ankles of a few Eagles special teamers and was streaking down the field towards our endzone. When he hit the Eagles' thirty-yard line we knew he was gone. We were already in the aisles going ballistic. Us, this Mexican dude and "Fred-Ex" were celebrating with each other like we had been best friends for twenty years. We were running up and down the aisles slapping hands with other Chiefs' fans. I saw a soccer mom high-five a NASCAR fan. I saw a middle-aged yuppie embrace an iced-out teen. I saw a sixty-year-old man crowd surfing. While I was rejoicing I ran down the aisle and saw Dante Hall doing his patented "X-Factor" celebration while exclaiming "We're Kansas City, baby!"

He was right, during that moment there were no colors, creeds, religions or sexes that separated the crowd from befriending one another. We were all the exact same thing-Kansas City red.

Blaine Revisited

I have witnessed countless moments like this both on TV and in person. I have seen sporting events, concerts, films, real life events, etc... both bring people of all walks together and inspire them. This is why I disagree with many of the comments that were made in response to my David Blaine post. As sports fans we all identify and connect with different players, teams and storylines. Those of us who are not jaded all believe in something. What that something is tends to depend on who we are as people. While Lance Armstrong may have touched a large portion of the world (and myself as well) by overcoming cancer to win one Tour de France after another, I personally connect with Blaine more. That was called "asinine." Is it asinine that I relate to Blaine being inspired by his mother's bout with cancer (my mother survived breast cancer)? Is it asinine that because of this inspiration that I, like Blaine, strive to be fearless in the pursuit of my dreams? Is it asinine that I also believe that the human mind, body and soul can accomplish amazing feats? No, no, and no.

That is one of the greatest things about both life and sports-there is something out there for each of us. There are so many stories out there that we can each connect with something. That's what I love about sports blogging. Thousands among thousands of points of views, none are wrong. As for who inspires me sports wise, again it's Reggie Miller, Dante Hall, and Jason McElwain. Three athletes that believe that they can overcome any obstacle they face, whether it be size, strength, physical disabilities or time left on a clock. Despite what one poster suggested, I do not idolize these athletes. I simply admire and look up to them and am man enough to admit that. They inspire me. So does my Mother, Blaine, Jay-Z, Barack Obama, Peter Jackson, Bono, Philip Seymour Hoffman, etc... but that's just me.

Jason McElwain after his legendary performance... "I was really hotter than a pistol!"

I believe that people can be brought together. I believe that people can accomplish great feats. Most of all, I believe that sports often inspire both the union of various walks of people and remarkable achievements. After all, just take a moment and look at how many of us have been brought together here on this site, celebrating great accomplishments while we ourselves strive to achieve.

So, call me a wide-eyed romantic. Call me an optimist. Call me a freakin' dreamer. Continue to criticize my blog. I don't care. I won't become a jaded person or sports fan and I won't change my belief that sports can both empower us and bring us together. After all, it is my voice and my blog. I don't have to be jaded, I can stir up the pot, and I can formulate my own opinion. Everyone can. Like Sean's painting and the colors he chose, to each their own.

For those of you who don't know who David Blaine is, the first thing that I want you to do is to climb out from underneath that rock. Now, I'll enlighten you.

The media often refers to Blaine as an illusionist or magician. He says that he is neither. Instead, Blaine calls himself a performance artist. I happen to agree with him.

Yes, the Brooklyn-born Blaine did indeed start out as a New York City street magic performer. He performed acts such as card and levitation tricks, and bringing dead flies back to life. That was then, this is now. Over the course of the last seven years, Blaine has taken his act to the legendary Harry Houdini's level. Referring to Blaine as simply a Magician is doing him a disservice. The death-defying stunts and feats of endurance that he has completed over the years are not sleight of hand magic tricks. They are physical feats that teeter on the verge of impossibility. He underwent months, sometimes years, of vigorous dieting and physical training. That sounds like a great competitor to me. Possibly even what I'd call an athlete?

Look at how Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary defines the word.

athlete: a person who is trained or skilled in exercises, sports, or games requiring physical strength, agility, or stamina

Again, that sounds like Blaine to me. Is Blaine any less of an athlete than some of today's competitors that we consider great athletes? Tiger Woods? Shaun White? Dale Earnhardt Jr.? Tony Hawk? It's a bold suggestion, but one that deserves further examination.

Many are quick to doubt or discredit Blaine, which in my opinion is just ridiculous. While performing his stunts he always places himself in a public place (usually somewhere in NYC), making him easily accessible to anyone who wants to take a closer look. Also, he has always remained fully visible and allowed the use of live television and webcams to authenticate his feats. Despite what the pundits might say, Blaine is actually doing these things that nobody else has ever done before.

The way Blaine is treated by a large share of the media is really no different than the way they have treated Barry Bonds, Kobe Bryant and Lance Armstrong. Basically, there is a whole lot of hatin' going on. A bunch of crusty 45-year-old armchair athletes that have nothing better to do but to sit around and invalidate the greatest individual feats of our time. This list of David Blaine's greatest feats speaks for itself...

"Premature Burial" (April 5, 1999)

Blaine was buried in a glass coffin at the bottom of an open pit for seven days. The pit was in front of a NYC office building, allowing spectators to view Blaine at all times.

"Frozen in Time" (November 27, 2000)

Blaine spent 61 hours, 40 minutes, and 15 seconds encased in a transparent block of ice that was slightly suspended from the ground. A tube provided him with air and water. Another tube removed his urine. Blaine says that he didn't walk right for a month after this stunt. This took place in Time Square, NYC.

"Vertigo" (May 22, 2002)

Blaine was crane lifted onto a 90' high pillar, which was 22" wide. He remained there and kept his balance for just a shade under 35 hours. He didn't have food, water, or anything at all to lean on. Blaine had no safety harnesses and didn't have safety nets underneath him for almost the whole duration. He punctuated this feat with an exclamation point by jumping off of the pillar and onto a landing platform made out of a pile of cardboard boxes. He suffered a concussion as a result of this jump, but fully recovered. This took place in NYC's Bryant Park.

"Above the Below" (September 5, 2003)

For 44 days, Blaine was sealed inside a small, clear plexiglass case that was suspended 30 feet in the air. He received water, but no food at all. There was a webcam inside the case that allowed viewers to watch Blaine. He lost 54 lbs. during this feat. This took place over the Thames River in London.

"Drowned Alive" (May 1, 2006)

During his most recent stunt, Blaine was underwater in an 8' water-filled sphere for a planned seven days and seven nights. He used tubes for food and water and to relieve himself. At the conclusion of this feat, Blaine attempted to break the underwater-breath-holding record of 8 minutes and 58 seconds. He could only muster 7 minutes and 8 seconds. During the weeklong stunt a doctor urged Blaine to get out of the water, stating later that Blaine was "pushing his body insanely to the limits." Because he didn't want to disappoint his fans, Blaine gave no consideration to this warning and remained submerged underwater. He has suffered liver failure, atrophied muscles and various other injuries as a result of this feat. This took place at the plaza of the Lincoln Center in NYC.

For "Drowned Alive", Blaine trained and dieted for a year in order to drop 50 lbs. so that his body would require less oxygen. He trained with both Navy SEALS and many of the world's best divers. His dedication and determination should make him a national hero. His ability to exercise mind over matter and do the undoable should be celebrated, not condemned. For example, why is New England Patriots Linebacker Ted Bruschi largely viewed as courageous for returning to football after a stroke, when Blaine is widely considered crazy? That just doesn't make sense.

Regardless if you consider David Blaine to be a magician, illusionist, stunt artist or athlete, it is hard to deny that the man is remarkable. He is a role model for people of all ages. A living testament that you can achieve almost anything that you put your mind to (and yes, I'm convinced that he will come back and break that underwater-breath-holding record ).

Diva Receivers

So Carolina wide receivers/divas Steve Smith and Keyshawn Johnson are already fighting. Wow. Meshawn just got there and the season doesn't even start for another four months. Apparently, the two will be able to play together, but according to Smitty will remain on "agree to disagree" status. I'm going to have to take Smith's side on this one. After all, he basically willed the Panthers into the playoffs last year. He also had just about the finest season by a receiver that I have ever witnessed. His comeback from a shattered leg rivals John Travolta's Pulp Fiction resurgence. What caused this riff? Did Keyshawn actually expect to waltz into Charlotte and be "the man" after the Cowboys let him go for the biggest WR/diva of them all--Terrell Owens? Probably.

Speaking of diva receivers, it looks like Javon Walker is going to get a $40-million dollar deal from the Denver Broncos. As a Chiefs fan that just makes me wince. Can we please sign Ty Law already? Going back to the Broncos perspective, what I can't understand is that Jay Cutler pick. They could've taken former Memphis star running back Deangelo Williams with that pick. That would have made them the clear-cut favorite to represent the AFC in the Super Bowl next season. Personally, I think Jay Cutler has bust written all over him.

Is there any doubt that aliens are living among us?

"Alien" invasion of MVP's layer

Steve Nash has officially repeated as MVP. That's just great. Now the most prestigious individual award from my favorite pro sport is forever tarnished. I read another blog today that really made me think. Steve Nash isn't even the best point guard that the Suns have ever had. That's no contest--it's Kevin Johnson. I guess that it's just hard for me to accept the fact that Nash will now be mentioned in the same breath as other back-to-back MVP winners like Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson.

Anyway, I think Nash and his Suns are in serious, serious trouble in their second round series with the Clip Ship. Sam Cassell, aka "the Alien", will probe away and expose Nash's defensive flaws. Shaun Livingston will also prove to be too quick for the floppy-haired Canadian. If Nash's ankle is still banged up, the Clippers will dismantle their Pacific Division rivals with relative ease. If that isn't enough, the Suns have a huge problem down low. How do they think they are going to be able to stop Elton Brand and Chris Kaman? They can't. I'm taking the Clippers in six.

Krstic goes ballistic?

New Jersey Nets F/C Nenad Krstic will continue to come of age during the Nets second round playoff series against the Miami Heat. If J.O., Jeff Foster and co. had trouble with Krstic, 'Toine and Udonis Haslem are in for a rude awakening. This guy is starting to look like the second coming of Kevin McHale, and that is very bad news for the Heat. Did I mention that the Nets have Richard Jefferson and Vince Carter both playing the best basketball of their careers? Considering that Jason Kidd is delivering these guys the ball, and that the Nets have plenty of bigs to throw at Shaq, I like the Nets chances. Unless Commissioner Stern and his goon squad are hell-bent on Dwayne Wade and Shaq making the Finals, I don't see Miami winning this series. In the end, the fearsome foursome of Kidd, Vince, R.J. and Krstic will be too much. I'm going with the Nets in seven.

Ron-Ron and I have the same barber.

Artest's Vision

The one and only Ron Artest has claimed that he will play for the Sacramento Kings next season for FREE if the organization brings back Head Coach Rick Adelman and talented, but problematic G/F Bonzi Wells. I happen to agree with Ron-Ron on this one, but if I were the Maloofs I wouldn't get too use to Artest being the franchise's voice of reason.

Man of his word

Oscar De La Hoya took the verbal assault of a lifetime from then WBC 154-pound champ Ricardo Mayorga leading up to Saturday's fight. Mayorga called him a "b****", insulted his family, and stated a comment insinuating that Oscar's own people didn't even respect him that he capped off with "Mexicans in East L.A. are telling me to kick your ass." Oscar kept it simple, responding in Spanish: "You have disrespected me, my wife and my people; believe me, I'm going to knock you out." Saturday, he beat Mayorga's face in, finishing him off in six rounds by TKO. I've been very critical of Oscar in the past, but I have to pay him his due. He pummeled his opponent during last weekend's fight and made good on his promise.

"How to dismantle a bomb"

As the NBA playoffs move on, I will be running an ongoing series under this name. Each blog will give my blueprint for rebuilding playoff teams that bombed in the 2006 NBA Playoffs. The first two teams will be my beloved Indiana Pacers and my hometown Los Angeles Lakers. Watch out for those...