Just like John Legend, and a slew of young male artists are threatening to dispatch hip-hop and bring R&B back to the forefront of African American domianted music, LeBron James is threatening to make the me,me, me chorus of the thugball, that has ruled the NBA since the end of Showtime, a thing of the past.
Granted, I'm unsure if James will be able to get it done against a very experienced postseason opponent such as the Spurs. And granted, Tim Duncan, the most under-noticed superstar in the history of the NBA appears to be on a mission, again. But that doesn't make me want LeBron to get that trophy any less.
Legend sampled a 60'####, "Stormy" in the cut "Save Room" from his already platinum sophomore effort, and it appears that LeBron is sampling the kind of humility and team spirit from his predecessors that makes the game a joy to watch.
Can anyone argue with what LeBron did for Daniel "Boobie" Gibson when he cleared the aisle for his team mate, repeating "make room for the superstar"? Did anyone notice the example he was setting? I sure did. James, who has been criticized, ridiculously so at the age of 22, for a lack of on court leadership exhibited just that in game 5, but it was what he did off the court following game 6, that will make him a champion. Because what champions do, is elevate the players around them.
What a nice change from over-paid, cry-baby, post-season no-shows like Iverson, Malone and Bryant. It takes too long for those guys to get what they deserve, usually 15 years or so to become a never was. Iverson will likely give another five years to thug-life punkdom. Malone's butt tightened up every spring in Utah. Bryant, who wanted to be "the guy" flying solo and launching 45 shots a game in LA, decided that "the guy" is now supposed to be surrounded by superstars, to whom he won't pass the ball, and still launch 45 shots a game.
What tickles me is that James has already learned at 22, what most of the last two generations of NBA stars never realized. It's a five man game, even if there's only the threat that "the guy" will pass the ball, that by itself is sometimes enough. But to be a champion, one must play both sides of the court, see all four team mates every time down, and want to (not just accept the necessity) elevate the others around you. Kind of like two guys named Earvin and Larry did, way back when.
So just like John Legend hearkened to the past and urged us to "Save Room (for the love)", LeBron is calling upon a great heritage and "making room" for his team mates. As I said a few posts back, the idea of a legitimate second alternative to James in Cleveland should have everyone thinking hard about the Cavs. James, through his words and his actions, is more than prepared to make room for any and all team mates that aspire to greatness.
Maybe his is "the track to bring the listeners back".
It started happening a few years back. Cars named after birds or cities or pointy things just weren’t exciting enough anymore. Even with some nice changes in sheet metal, “noun” cars weren’t generating the heat they used to generate. Names like Chevy’s Camaro, Chrysler’s Caravan, Ford’s Escort, Cadillac’s Coup DeVille, Pontiac’s Grand (insert name here), Nissan’s Sentra and Mazda’s Miata were sent to the bone yard for some silly sounding replacements. Now we have the Dodge Intrepid, the Ford Focus, the Chevy Cobalt, the Nissan Altima, the Toyota Prius, and wait we still have the Miata. Saving the Miata, though, is a lot like sinking a ship full of gold coins and being able to recover the sea rations.
It’s bad enough to have to deal with all this car name silliness, but it gets worse. A few times each year the average guy, aka you and me, is forced to watch the athlete of the moment drive off with an MVP award and a new “insert luxury manufacturer name here” SUV. Even with the silly names, we can’t have one, at least not yet anyway.
If I had my way, I’d not only name the new vehicles but I’d also pick the athletes to drive them. After all, who is more likely to buy new cars than today’s highly paid athlete. So I thought it might be fun to share my new car names and the jocks who should pilot them.
The VW Virgin-From the company that partnered with Porsche to make an SUV and then named it the Toe-Rag, we get the Virgin. It’s the first logical name for a VW since the Rabbit. After all, maybe people who drive VW’s aren’t all virgins, but they sure look like they should be.
Who drives a Virgin? Shawn Bradley, that’s who. The guy has a wife and kids and still manages to look like he couldn’t score if he was shooting point blank into an open net.
The Pontiac Pout-Named for its stiff maneuvers and sluggish behavior, the Pout is the choice of athletes who don’t get the ball as much as they want it. Who drives a Pout? No, not TO, but you're close. Long before TO was wrecking chemistry like a 12 year old with a flask and a Bunsen burner, Keyshawn Johnson made MeShawn a household name. Besides, TO doesn’t pout. TO is way too vocal for that. That’s why he drives a . . . . . . . .
Toyota Tantrum-The Tantrum combines 4 wheel, shift on the whine, drive a roaring DOHC 8 cylinder engine, and six-speed automatic transmission to make petulant protestations as easy as a Sunday drive. Plus, there’s a 3rd seat standard for those full on thrashers.
The Dodge Debacle-The debacle isthe gold standard inheadroom, legroom, billowy upholstery, road isolation, and a ride that feels so smooth, you almost forget that you were a few minutes from a crushing 3-0 lead over the Miami Heat when your team quit on you. You got it. Dirk Nowitzki drives a debacle.
Infiniti Temporary-The Temporary (pardon the pun) is made for the man who wants people to know that he’s arrived, but that he might not be staying. Everything’s standard with the Temporary. Even your first three license plate transfers and conversion to NY or California emissions when your deal runs out, or LA finally gets smart and unloads Kobe, is included in the sticker.
LeBron James drives a Temporary, Carmelo Anthony drives a Temporary. Heck, Dwyane Wade is thinking about a Temporary, depending on how much Shaq weighs next preseason.
Nissan Notquite-The Notquite is an intriguing ride. It’s not quite a Honda or Toyota, but then again it’s not quite a Chevy or Ford either. Who else but Albert Pujols would drive the Notquite? He could hit 75 homers, never even think about steroids and still be not quite as beloved as Mark McGwire in St. Louis. And it's notquite ready, so here's a peek.
Chrysler Crybaby-Chrysler’s partnership with Mercedes has yielded some excellent upgrades but none as wonderful as this. The Crybaby is the first vehicle ever to be soundproofed from the inside. But don’t look for one anytime soon, this luxury sedan is available only in limited release and only for sale to Seattle Seahawk coaches and fans.
Honda Fonda- For every aging superstar who just refuses to go gentle into that good night, the Fonda is the ride of choice for the star who thinks he’s got one more “On Golden Pond” season in him before he flames out altogether.
The Fonda is luxuriously equipped with power assisted everything (for those weak, achy joints), a six-cylinder turbocharged engine whose turbocharger doesn’t quite engage like it used to, and dual wheezing exhaust pipes. Who drives a Fonda? Roger Clemens? No. Shaquille O’Neal? No. Is there any athlete out there more qualified to be in Honda than Mark Brunell? Yes, Kurt Warner.
Porsche Chokester-The Chokester is the best that powerful, sleek, sporty underperformance has to offer. ESPN's favorite son is not all aesthetics though. With a 0-60mph run of never, the Chokester clocks the first 50mph in just less than 4 seconds and hits a screaming, bone jarring stall before the finish.
The Chokester is the car of choice for all those rich New England preppies and roughneck hills of Pittsburgh fans as well, because as long as Peyton Manning is driving a Chokester, January is gonna be a great month.
Jaguar X-Wife 3- At a base price just under $40K, and free maintenance for the life of the car, the X-Wife 3 spells affordable luxury for all those aging jocks who crossed the altar more frequently than the championship finish line that would have made all those alimony payments manageable.True, it looks more like a Buick than Jag, and it drives more like a Ford than the legendary classic, but at least it has the cat on the hood and that’s something.
Who drives the X-Wife 3? That guy who married Tawny Kitaen, whatever his name is? I think it was Chuck Finley.
Ford Frustration-Like the Chrysler Crybaby, the Ford Frustration is not available to most of us. Ford’s answer to Lamborghini and Ferrari is powered by a 12 cyl, dohc, 450 hp rocket. With a 6 speed manual transmission and Lotus suspension, The Frustration is the perfect ride for those who want a quick suicide run to end to the “I just can’t take losing anymore” blues. So you can’t have one unless you’ve done yeoman service for a perennial loser or bridesmaid.
Who drives the Frustration? Bill Cowher was lucky enough to cancel his order last February, but Marty Schottenheimer already has two.
Cadillac CrackDealer-Simply put, it’s the most tricked out, pimped-up, bling-blinged, dropped down ride in the bizzizzness. The CrackDealer doesn’t just have rims, it has gold rims with platinum rims on its rims. DirecTV is standard, with eight headrest and two ceiling mounted flat screen monitors. This Caddy not only has heated leather seats, it has cooled leather seats for those potentially sticky summer exits.And just when you thought #### fab couldn’t get more fab, just press down and slide out those front and rear dual Cristal Holders. As one owner (name withheld due to probation) said, “####’s got a dashboard microwave and a DJ in the back”.
And the great news is, you don’t have to be a crack dealer to drive one, you just have to look like a crack dealer. He drives, rather is driven, in a Bentley, but come on Allen Iverson, you know you want one. With a rap sheet like this, is there any other car for you?
Allen Iverson
Criminal trespass, felony, two counts
Criminal conspiracy, felony, one count
Violation of the Uniform Firearms Act, felony, one count
Violation of the Uniform Firearms Act, misdemeanor, one count
Simple assault, misdemeanor, two counts
Terroristic threats, misdemeanor, two counts
Unlawful restraint, misdemeanor, two counts
False imprisonment, misdemeanor, two counts
Possession of an instrument of crime, misdemeanor, one count
Chevy Cheeseburger- The motto for this ride has to be “It’s about time”. It’s about time that the manufacturer that gives away mediocre cars like Famous Amos sells chocolate chip cookies just caved in and used an equally generic name for their rides. The CB will be as ambiguous and omnipresent as every Chevy before it. But soon this vehicle will be the heartbeat of American mediocrity. Why? Well there’s nothing very good about it, and it still enlists the 1980’s rehash of 1970’s Chevy technology, but who doesn’t want a cheeseburger?
For every mediocre baseball player who couldn’t cross the Mendoza line, for every 11th guy on an NBA roster, for all the 53rd guys on NFL rosters, there’s a Cheeseburger. And for those guys who actually got into the game there’s an upgrade coming. Chevy’s Z-44 Bacon Cheeseburger is due out in ’07.
Lexus Loafer-Lexus has finally forsaken its numbers and letters for the new flagship, the king-sized, luxury line Loafer. For every player who has ever taken a play, a series, a game or even a season off, the Loafer will get them where they’re going, if they even care where they’re going since they went in the tank a long time ago.
It’s no CrackDealer, the Loafer takes refined luxury to new heights. With its “navigation to nowhere” GPS, and soothing environmental sound system, the Loafer leads its passengers on peaceful, seemingly endless journey through seasons of discontent. Finally, a car for Randy Moss.
BMW 760 ME- This car was simply made for one man. No really, one NBA player had his agent contact BMW because he loves the upwardly mobile legacy of BMW but felt the driver customization options of the I-drive system were way too flexible any car he was driving. The answer, BMW redesigned a whole series just for Kobe Bryant.
The 760 ME, won’t let you adjust your seats, your mirrors, your climate control, your stereo stations, or anything else for that matter. And it only lets you leave your hotel under the cover of darkness. You drive it like Kobe drives it, or not at all. Of course Jerry Buss and Mitch Kupchak already have one, even though Buss’ sits in the garage because he can’t reach the pedals. But Phil Jackson? Well he’s rumored to have one, but we’ll see if he’s actually driving it in the next couple of years.
Land Rover Roid-Rage-Did we save the best (or worst) for last. For years, Rover has staked a claim on the most overpriced SUV in the game. And Rover doesn’t care if it misses out on the new money, the up and comers, and the ghettofabulous market. They just keep making the same bland, boring, underpowered dinosaurs, and selling them to too rich, but unpretentious upper-middle Americans, based on the fact that their cars really can go anywhere safely. But that’s all about to change.The car maker that doesn’t need you, want you or care about you is finally peddling to someone.Anabolicly altered athletes will soon be slamming themselves into the front seats of Rovers everywhere. With its super tempered punch proofwindow glass, anger sensitive gas pedal governor, and anti-ram brakes, the Roid Rage hedges its bets that back acne covered, puffy joweled, pulsing neck veined home-run hitters will see that it pays for itself many times over in personal injury lawsuit savings alone.
Mark McGwire doesn’t have one. He’s lost 75lbs for some strange reason and is too weak to drive a Roid-Rage now. Jose Canseco? No. He can’t afford the $400k price tag, so he’s driving the Jaguar X-Wife 3. Rafael Palmiero? No. He drives the new Hummer #### (insert Viagra joke here). But Barry Bonds is the perfect fit for the Roid-Rage. The guy who doesn’t need, want or care about the fans is perfectly aligned with the car maker who doesn’t need, want or care about us either. And the good news is, even though he’s going to be spending millions to keep from hitting 715 HR’s for his cell-block softball team, Bonds has been making so much money for so long that he can afford more legal fees than OJ and Kobe combined and still drive a Roid-Rage, when he gets out at least.
Of course I’m just scratching the surface here. I never even got to the Hummer, or the Lamborghini’s, Lotuses and Ferrari’s of the world. But there’s always another blog, and there are new superstars and car models being made every day. As you hear so often in sports, we'll get 'em next year.
There were a whole lot of us KoMe Bryant haters snickering with glee when the Big Aristotle hoisted that NBA Championship Trophy. Yes, I was grinning from ear to ear. It wasn’t enough to watch Lebron, then Dirk, then Dwyane eclipse the Mamba this playoff season, but then the Shaqacalafragalistic one got the ultimate revenge this week. Not only did Shaq do what he set out to do, but he got to watch Wade bury the KoMe hype machine in its first round playoff grave.
Of course there are legions of me-sketball lovers who will still insist that KoMe is the best player in the game. It’s because he can do this, or he can do that, or he can do something no one else can. And they would be right. No one can kill a team like Kobe kills a team. It’s a shame, because I still think KoMe is more talented than Jordan was, but Jordan saved his black heartedness and killer instinct for his opponents. That, my friends is why Bryant isn’t the best in the game, never was, and never will be.
Besides, didn’t Jordan have to deliver under pressure to become “the best in the game”? Up until he did, he was way shy of legendary status. And does anyone remember Jordan pouting and refusing to shoot in a game seven of the playoffs, or a game 2 of the season, or a pickup game at a local high school? No.
That’s what separates the goods from the greats, Ko. Shaq must have peed his pants laughing watching D-Wade get that MVP. Now, D-Wade is, without question, the best in the game. Better than Dirk, better than LeBron, oh yeah, and light years better than the Mamba. He didn’t destroy his team because he couldn’t tolerate playing next to other stars. Wade used the stage to make his teammates stars. That’s what the best players do. So for all those who cry that KoMe would have won the trophy with the rest of the Heat playing alongside him, just remember, KoMe didn’t want the rest of the Heat playing alongside him. If he couldn’t share the ball with an aging Shaq, how would he do alongside D-Wade?
And by the way, isn’t it fun to watch Shaquille gloat, even if he wasn’t the Big First Option?
People are saying that Shaq has to adjust to not being option one anymore. They need to look at the films from 2003 and 2004 with the Lakers. Shaq hasn’t been option one for quite a while now. But just like Riley made Kareem adjust in the twilight of his career, he’s gotten Shaq to buy in as well. Don’t kid yourselves folks. Shaq knows what’s happening out there. He hears what his body is telling him. But he also knows that it’s a team game and that’s he loaded up the truck and moved from Beverly in the first place. Funny though, teams still prepare for and play him like it’s 1998. I remember one particular play this series where Shaq took the ball down low and faked a step to draw the double just so he could kick out to the open man. He wasn’t even thinking about shooting. That’s one mighty fine 7’, 330lb., decoy they have in Miami.
And maybe this is a good metaphor for one disgruntled blogger. When I was chosen and then almost immediately un-chosen as a NGSII finalist, I was irate. I got #### in a big way for daring to call out a counterfeit Fox columnist. I remember writing a story about eating my favorite dinner (linguini with clams) and how the best revenge, rather than pissing and moaning, is living well. We often spew those platitudes with little thought or belief behind them, but I really believed it that night. Tonight, I believe it more than ever.
For Shaquille and maybe someday for me, the best revenge really is living well.
As Sgt. Hulka said in Stripes; “Aw, lighten up Francis”.
The Mavericks need to lighten up in a hurry. They’re looking down the gun barrel of a 3-2 NBA Championship deficit. It’s not because of the officials, it’s not because Stack got suspended for molesting Shaq, it’s not because Josh Howard called time out twice and the refs had to accept the 2nd one. It’s not because of anything/anyone but Dwyane Wade, Shaquille O’Neal, Pat Riley and the rest of Bingo Long’s Traveling All Stars masquerading as the Miami Heat.
I don’t know how Riley will pull this one off, but he’s nothing short of a miracle here. How did he find the few spots where Gary Payton actually needs to be a ball hog, how did he get Shaq to lose enough weight so that he’s still breathing in the 4th quarter? How did he get Shaq to learn how to be an effective decoy, rather than look for the ball back every time, in the 2 man game? How did he get Wade to step up regardless of how bad he’s hurting? How did he manage to make J-Will quit displaying his dazzling array of no-look passes into the 2nd row?
Most of all, I want to know how he got his two stars and a band of refugees to want it more than the Mavericks. Because I have to admit, I didn’t make a prediction on this series because I didn’t want to be honest about it. I’m not sure the Heat have any business in a series with the Mavs, but they’re sure now and that’s all that matters.
True, they’ll never be Riley’s ShowTime Lakers, but then again, they sure aren’t Riley’s ThugLife Knicks. This is a team, one season later, that still isn’t sure how to play together. They certainly showed flashes of coming together to beat the Flop Saunders Pistons. But that was never really in doubt for me. I don’t call him Flop Saunders for nothing. Saunders is Basketball’s Marty Schottenheimer. But someway, somehow, Riley has morphed this band of basketball brothers into a team, regardless of the incongruities, this late in the proverbial game.
Meanwhile, Dallas continues to disintegrate before our very eyes. It’s ironic that folks compare Avery Johnson to Pat Riley because he does recall some of the very qualities that we saw in Riley early on in LA. But Johnson needs to take a lesson from the old salt. Riley wasn’t crying after the two drubbings in Dallas, he hasn’t cried about how the officials have turned on Shaq (whether or not it’s legal, he used to get the benefit), he’s had little if nothing to say except to his own players. What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall in the Heat locker room in game 3. If Sgt. Hulka hadn’t been killed in that mortar fire, I bet he could impart some wisdom for Coach Johnson.
We’ll learn just how much Johnson is like Riley this evening.
The concierge in Dallas had a message for Shaq. His wife called, she said he left his game on the living room couch. At least that’s one explanation. But before we pin 100% of the drubbing the Mavs have laid on the Miami Cold in the first two games of the finals; we should really try to consider that “the Big Not-Exactly” isn’t the only one at fault.
First there is the buzz about half the Heat having the flu bug that knocked D-Wade out for a few days. Normally I don’t give much weight to these considerations, but have you seen the first two games. Miami is lethargic for some reason, unbelievably lethargic. In more ways than one, this is the look o####roup with nothing in the tank. The fact is the Heat look beat. Even Wade is clanking the front of the rim with regularity. That means one thing folks, tired.
It can’t be Pat Riley killing them in practice, either. That Riley ceased to exist post Los Angeles. But then again, this team doesn’t have third fourth and fifth superstar options like Worthy, Scott, Wilkes, McAdoo, Nixon, etc. I’m not saying Riley wasn’t a good coach, but sometimes the mark i####reat coach is the team he picks (see Phil Jackson, 1.0 and 2.0). After an aging Shaq and a rising but not quite there, D-Wade, Riley doesn’t have a whole lot of answers. Mourning is hanging on valiantly but hanging on nonetheless, Haslem hopes someday to be a has been, Walker is and will always be lost in a team game, and J-Will is just a bad joke played on white people every where. Don’t get me started on Payton. He was garbage in LA and he’s garbage in Miami. The rest of the Heat bench, unlike Kobe Bryant, couldn’t get picked out a police line-up.
But all that said, Miami is playing the most balanced, versatile and talented team in the NBA. Dallas has the best player in basketball, the best coach in basketball, and the best bench in basketball. So much for all of us that hoped Shaq would sack up and strap his team to his back for the series one more time. He couldn’t do it with the Bryant, Malone, Payton, insert 5th shmuck, Lakers against the Pistons a few years back, and he sure isn’t doing it a few years older against a better, faster, stronger Dallas squad.
So is “The Big MIA” the difference maker? Probably not. The same Shaq that won a lot of ball games in Miami this year and closed out Detroit showed up for work in Dallas. The hard truth is, Shaq’s game is quickly declining. He’s never been a great natural ball player; he’s just always been a great physical specimen. The improvements in his game came from the hard work and dedication that the Zen Master brought out of him. But even if the “Big Spirit” is willing, the “Big Body” just isn’t able anymore.
So, if Heat fans think the problem is #32, they have another think coming. The problem is option #3, #4, #5 and #s 6-9.
Sometimes you get your wish. That's what I said to myself last night watching D-Wade, White Chocolate and The Diesel polish off the Bad Boys 2.0. Actually it was three wishes, I got to see Detroit get dispatched, Riles returning to the dance, and Shaq Daddy proving convincingly that he gets it while KoMe gets a vacation.
Don't misunderstand me, I acknowldege that KoMe is the most gifted player in the NBA. But then again, Terrell Owens is the most gifted wideout in the NFL too. I used to love the KoBe that played with Shaq. The love just turned to hate when Kobe decided to go KoMe, full time, using free agency to run the games biggest force and best Coach out of Los Angeles. See, now that's respect. I despise Jackson's (Winters) sluggardly triangle game, but I can't argue the fact that he's the best Coach around. If KoMe was the best player in the game, I'd say that too. But right now the best player is Dirk Nowitzki, to the dismay of Isiah Thomas, and D-Wade ain't but a half-step back.
So it's particularly delicious to get three wishes all in one night. But it wasn't perfect, though. A few things still bother me about the Heat:
1. When will J-Will cut the #### and admit that he isn't Earvin Johnson II? I'm so sick of the doodazzle passes he no-looks into the hands of defenders for easy layups the other way. JW can be a really good baller, if he'd just quit the Magic act. Christ, even Earvin Johnson isn't Earvin Johnson anymore.
2. Who will guard Nowitzki? My guess is the Heat use the same combiantion of nobody that has worked so well for the Suns.
3. This is not the same Pat Riley that coached Worthy, Kareem, Silk, Scott, and Johnson to glory. He's older and a lot less motivated. I mean, come on now, did anyone expect Riley to even want to win again after Showtime? Riles in NY was like Chuck Noll had left retirement to coach the Vikings. Riles in Miami? I don't know what to think. I guess he just wanted to coach Shaq.
4. Udonis Haslem. They misspelled his birth certificate, right?
5. The Glove. I despise the glove. Even more than KoMe, I watched his sorry, sulking #### destroy the SuperLakers last title run. Payton is the only player I've ever seen sulk and dribble at the same time. Aside from that, calling him the glove is a joke now. He might qualify to be called "the scarf" on a good day.
It's not news, though, that no one is going to chain-saw the Mavs now that Avery Johnson is running the show. That alone makes for a really interesting sub-plot, the grizzled veteran coach against the young buck.
My second biggest question is how much of the Diesel we'll get against Dallas. Last night he gave about 85%, which is probably 20% harder than he's been working this postseason. Diesel gives, when he's motivated, the thing every non-triangle team needs to win. The inside-out game. Simply put, when Shaq is on, Miami is the best inside out team in the NBA.
The most important question, though is; will KoMe have the sack to do the halftime show? I'm dying to know. There's an even more tantalizing sub-plot to his pending appearance though. What color sweater vest will his publicist pick for this appearance? I can hear the talk in the dressing room now. "Here Ko, this one definately makes you look like you're not a ####" "Dude, Pistachio? It makes me look like a ########!" "Well, it's gonna have to roll, Ko, your periwinkle vest is at the cleaners. Now rock the Pistachio."
It was a bit surreal in Dallas last night, at least according to what I saw on TV. After clanking a few layups early, Nowitzki went on a white boy rampage we haven't seen the likes of since Larry Bird. As a matter of fact, Larry Legend never had 50 and 10 in a playoff game.
There are a lot of phrases for what we saw last night. "In the zone", "unconscious", "sick", "off the chain", and the like come to mind. But none of those seem to capture the essence of the type of playoff performance I thought we'd seen the last of (for a long time) with Michael Jordan. I keep hearing Cypress Hill in the background when I see the highlights, though.
I had a feeling Nowitzki would have a better game than his last night out, but who woulda thunk? The best part is that 22 and 8 came in Q4 o####ame that was in question almost the whole way. No, the best part was that he dropped 48,49 and 50 with a three pointer he was so sure would drop that had turned and left. No, the best part is that he stuck it to Tim Thomas after Thomas decided to blow him a kiss.
No, the best part is he's a white guy. A long time ago, Dennis Rodman said, and Isiah Thomas agreed, that "if Larry Bird had been black, he'd be just another good player". I don't know how anyone can take a career punk, who wears dresses and full body tattoos and has more piercings than a female porn star, seriously. And I don't know what in the world possessed Thomas to agree with him. But then again I don't know what in the world possessed Thomas to destroy the Knicks either. It's pretty clear that Thomas never got over being left off the 1992 Dream Team, or maybe he's just mad because he never dropped 60 on anybody like Bird did to Atlanta, his best ever was 47.
What I do know is that this is the kind of stupid blithering that the sickness of racism creates.
I'm dying to hear what Rodman and Thomas will have to say when Nowitzki, a 7 footer who can play 7', 6'6", 6'0" or whatever size he needs to be, finishes his great career. It will probably be the same kind of garbage, though. Why? Bitterness and racial hatred have no intellectual restrictions. I'll bet it's pretty unsettling when insecure black men feel their one safe racial haven has been invaded by a white superhero. That's the only explanation for saying Larry Bird would be just "good" if he had been black.
It's easier to believe that Rodman rather than Thomas didn't watch the 1980's, because Rodman was always delusional. But both must have missed the two greatest stars of the era and two of the greatest ever. Larry Bird and Earvin Johnson both lifted two storied, but down and out franchises back to the NBA marquee. Buck with his ability to run the court, feed the break and excite a laconic Lakers squad, Bird with his ability to see guys who hadn't arrived yet, to shoot and drive and to put the dagger in at the precise moment.
I hated Bird, by the way. I was always (up until KoMe busted them up) a Lakers fan. When Bryant leaves, I'll be a Lakers fan again. But my hatred, just like Zeke and the Worm's jealousy, does not diminish Bird's greatness. And I didn't hate Bird because he was white, either. I hated him because he was that damn good and probably the only reason the Lakers didn't win out in the 80's (except for Johnson's knee injury the year we lost to Houston).
I guess the haters forgot that Larry Bird was playing and winning against a predominantly black NBA. The only conclusion I can come to is that if Bird had been black, aside from being even goofier looking, is that he'd be a black, championship caliber baller. Greatness doesn't have a color, fellas.
Here's what should have Rodman and Thomas really upset. Nowitzki could be better than the Birdman. I saw physical abilities and skills out of the german last night that Bird never displayed. True, he didn't show it earlier on in his career, but not everyone peaks as soon as Bird did. What remains to be seen is if he can retain the edge that Tim Thomas so generously instilled in him. Nowitzki is a damn fine shooter, good ball handler, can play every position and is finally showing a little heart.
That by the way is what made Larry Legend and Magic Champions, folks; not color, but heart.
So while Zeke continues to destroy one of the most visible franchises in sports, and Rodman fades off into the circus side show he's made for himself, I hope they saw the game last night. I'm just dying to hear about how 50 and 10 in game 6 of the Conference finals is just "good", if Dirk had been a black guy.
