Josh Q. Public:  I’m on the top of the world lookin’ down on creation and the only explanation I can find is the love that I’ve found, ever since you’ve been around.  Your love puts me at the top of the world.  -The Carpenters

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Woooo doggie!  What’s crack-a-lacking sports fans?  Sorry to keep you waiting for this one.  Anticipating for this one.  Making you lating for this one.  But I’ve been savoring this one.  Savoring the flavoring of this one.  Savoring the flavoring for twenty-two long years.  It took thirty years for the Celtics to win sixteen Championships.  It took twenty-two to win this one.  Twenty-two long years since Jerry Sichting ignited a brawl with Twin Tower, Ralph Sampson.  Twenty-two long years since Larry Bird dismantled the Houston Rockets in Game Six of the 1986 Finals.  Twenty-two long, hard years.  Twenty-two Johnny Wadd Holmes years.  Len Bias years.  Reggie Lewis years.  Red Auerbach years.  And here we are.  Here we are, World Champions once again.  How sweet it is!  Sweet as candy.  You’re my sugar dandy.  Kevin Garnett is my sugar dandy.  Kevin Garnett.  Here’s your ticket.  Hear the drummer get wicked.  Kevin Garnett.  Passionate.  Talented.  Charismatic.  Mr. Defense.  Mr. Defense turning this ballclub around.  I said upside down you’re turning me.  You’re giving love instinctively.  Around and round you’re turning me.  Turned King James around.  Turned him into Queen James.  Turned Mr. Big Shot around.  Turned him into Mr. Little Shot.  Turned Kobe Bryant around.  Not tonight, Kobe?  Not tonight?  Is that what you said?  It ain’t your night.  This ain’t your night.  See what happens?  The Celtics get the title at TD Banknorth Garden.  And what do you get?  A one-way ticket to Palooka-ville!  That’s what.  MJ my ####.  A one-way ticket to Pallokaville thanks to the Celtics defense.  Demonic defense.  Demoralizing defense.  Dispiriting defense.  Discouraging defense.  Disheartening defense.  Tom Thibedeau defense.  The Celtics had been playing demonic, demoralizing, dispiriting, discouraging, dishearte
ning, Tom Thibedeau defense from the giddy-up.  From the giddy-up like Secretariat.  Like Secretariat:  ”Moving like a tremendous machine.”  Like Secretariat:  ”All of your life, in your game, you’ve been striving for perfection.  At the end of the Belmont, you saw it.”  At the end of these NBA Finals you saw it.  You saw Paul Pierce triumphantly waving the MVP Trophy high over his head.  Ten years toiling for the Boston Celtics trying to secure his legacy.  Redemption.  You saw Sugar Ray Allen knocking down threecola after threecola.  The most consistent player in these Finals.  Redemption.  You saw KG screaming craziness with tears of joy in his eyes.  Hugging Bill Russell.  Redemption.  You saw Doc Rivers. Doc rivers drenched in Gatorade after he out-Zenned the Zenmaster. Redemption. You saw Rajon Rondo and his freakishly large hands mature right in front of our eyes.  You saw James Posey, Eddie House and the rest of the Headband Posse take matters into their own hands.  You saw Kendrick Perkins prove that losing Big Al Jefferson wasn’t so bad after all.  You saw what greatness is all about.  You saw team basketball.  Five players on the floor functioning as one single unit.  Team, team, team.  No one more important that the other.  Welcome to Boston Celtics basketball!  And you know what the good news is?  Huh?  Do ya?  They’re all coming back.  Paul Pierce is coming back.  Ray Ray is coming back.  KG is coming back.  And maybe most importantly, with almost all the head coaching vacancies filled, Tom Thibedeau is coming back.  Coming back for number eighteen.  Eighteen.  I get confused every day.  Eighteen.  I just don’t know what to say.  KG does.  KG knows what to say.  KG says Yeah baby!  KG says, anything is poooooosssssssible!  KG says, I’m so happy right now—I’m not going to sleep for a week. Kg says, I’m certified. KG says, Michele, you look good tonight, girl. KG says, It’s a lot of responsibility that comes with putting this great jersey on. KG says, made it, Ma! KG says, top of the world!

Public Acknowledgements:  Jed Clampett, Carly Simon, Jackie Gleason, Robert Spencer, Public Enemy, Diana Ross, On The Waterfront, Chic Anderson, Heywood Hale-Broun and Hoosiers

Public Spectacle: 

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Josh Q. Public:  One love.  One blood.  One life.  You got to do what you should.  -U2

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  I know.  I know I said the Celtics would wrap this thing up last night. I said the Lakers were demoralized.  Dispirited.  Discouraged.  Disheartened.  I said they did not stand a chance.  That they did not have the intestinal fortitude to overcome.  I know, like Fonzie, I was wrrr.  I was wrrrr.  I was wrong.  Face it, I say I a lot of things.  I’m a shameless homer.  I know this.  I know things.  I’m smart!  Not like everybody says…like dumb.  I’m smart and I want respect!  Paul Pierce wants respect.  He’s getting it.  The Celtics may have lost last night but it was no fault of the Truth.  The Truth is, Paul Pierce has been the best basketball player in this here post-season.  Better than King James.  Better than the Mamba.  Better than everybody.  Last night, Paul Pierce scored thirty-eight points for the Celtics.  That was the third-highest point total by any Celtics player in an NBA Finals game.  Only Hondo Havlicek who scored forty points in Game Six of the 1968 Finals and forty-three points in Game Two of the 1969 Finals has scored more.  Paul Pierce is securing his Celtics legacy.  Paul Pierce is proving Bob Ryan correct.  Bob Ryan says Pierce is the best scorer the Celtics have ever had.  It sure looked that way last night.  Went to the hizzouse at will last night.  At will.  Shotgun blasts are heard.  When I rip and kill, at will.  That was the Truth.  Ripping and killing at will.  KG was in foul trouble.  Sugar Ray Allen shot four of thirteen and fouled out.  But there’s no need to fear, Paul Pierce is here.  Pierce carried the Celtics.  Carried them as far as they could go last night.  Carried them while playing all but two seconds of the game on a gimpy right knee.  Carried them and played the final three and a half minutes with five fouls.  Make no mistakes, the Celtics will win this.  They will win it riding on the broad shoulders of Paul Pierce.  Singer sing me a given.  Singer sing me a song.  Standing on the shoulders of giants.  Everybody’s looking on.  Everybody’s looking on as Paul Pierce and the Celtics prepare to hoist banner number seventeen.  And that’s the double truth, Ruth!

Public Acknowledgements:  Happy Days, Godfather, LL Cool J, Underdog, REM and Senor Love Daddy

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Josh Q. Public:  Happy days are here again.  The skies above are clear again.  So lets sing a song of cheer again.  Happy days are here again.  -Barbara Streisand

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  What?  What?  I thought so.  Everything’s coming up roses.  Wooo doggie!  Bunny Bryant.  Bunny Bryant got his looks last night.  Bunny Bryant got his thirty points last night.  Thirty A-Broad points.  Alex Rodriguez points.  Points that do not matter.  You know what matters?  Huh?  Do ya?  100 points matter.  That’s it.  Before this series started, I was listening to Mike & the Mad Dog.  I was listening to Bob Ryan on Mike & The Mad Dog.  Bob Ryan gave a stat.  A meaningful stat.  A telling stat.  A significant stat.  Bob Ryan said the Lakers are something like 4-20 when they score under 100 points this season.  Something like.  We’ll get Tony Vincent Terry Duerod Reali to get us the real number after the show.  But you get the picture.  The Lakers do not win when they score under 100 points.  That’s the picture.  A picture is worth a thousand words.  The Celtics hold you to under 100 points.  They hold you to under 100 points all the time.  That’s what they do.  That’s all you need to know.  You don’t need to know how good Big Show Leon Powe was last night.  You don’t need to know how Big Show Leon Powe etched his name into this rivalry.  Powefection.  It just doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t matter the Truth, the whole truth and nothing but the Truth scored twenty-eight points on his sprained right knee.  It doesn’t matter that Rajon Rondo and his freakishly large hands are finally realizing their true potential.  It doesn’t matter that the Celtics nearly blew a 24-point lead in the fourth quarter.  All you need to look at is the scoreboard.  I know.  I know.  102.  Not 100.  Close enough.  Close enough when you have the best defense in all of basketball.  The best defense in all the land.  The best defense in the free world.  Best defense in both the regular and post seasons.  I may sound like a broken record.  Go.  Go Cut Creator go!  I may sound like a broken record, but I don’t care.  I don’t have to care.  Tom Thibedeau cares.  Kevin Garnett cares.  Ray Allen cares.  Paul Pierce cares.  They care enough to play defense.  They care enough for all of us.  NBA.  Win or go home!

Public Acknowledgements:  Jed Clampett, Ethel Merman, PTI, I *Heart* Celtics and LL Cool J

Peace out homies.  Six two and even!

Josh Q. Public:  Rah rah rumble seats and running boards, them was the good old days.  Knee pants and dime a dance girls, oh Lord, them was the good old days.  -Roger Miller

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Woooo doggie!  Beat LA!  Beat LA!  Beat LA!  Does it get any better than this?  Huh?  Does it?  If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times, there’s nothing like blogging when your teams are winning.  Just win baby!  The Celtics are winning.  Won Saturday night.  Won Saturday night against Deetroit Basketball.  Won Saturday night against Deetroit Basketball at the Palace of Auburn Hills.  Can’t win on the road.  My tucchus they can’t.  Won Saturday night at The Palace of Auburn Hills and now face the Los Angeles Lakers at home on Thursday.  I know, I know.  We all know.  Steve Buckley knows.  Here comes the showdown.  The hoedown showdown.  The throwback hoedown showdown of epic proportions.  From now until Thursday you will hear about it. You will hear about Russell versus Chamberlain.  You will hear about Cousy versus West.  Magic versus Bird.  Parrish versus Kareem.  McHale versus Big Game James.  You’ll see visions of Havlicek stealing the ball.  Greer is putting the ball in play.  He gets it out deep and Havlicek steals it!  Over to Sam Jones…  You’ll see visions of Gerald Henderson stealing the ball.  You’ll see visions of Sir Cedric in Kurt Rambis glasses.  You’ll see clotheslines.  You’ll see sky hooks.  You’ll see baby hooks.  You’ll see all of it.  You’ll feel the rivalry.  You’ll feel the tradition.  You’ll feel the glory.  The mystique.  You’ll see, hear, smell, touch, taste all of it.  You’ll have one, two, three, four, five, senses working overtime.  You’ll be inundated.  Saturated.  Permeated.  But while you’re getting caught up in all the nostalgia of it.  All the pageantry of it.  Life’s rich pageantry of it.  While you’re doing all that, don’t overlook this here Celtics team.  This new style Celtics team.  And on the cool check in.  Center stage on the mic.  And we’re puttin’ it on wax.  It’s the new style.  Four and three and two and one.  When I’m on the mic, the suckers run.  Suckers have been running from these Celtics all season.  Dollar Bill Simmons says nobody is beating the Lakers.  Not Boston.  Not nobody.  Dollar Bill Simmons can go blow it out his ear.  I’ve watched this edition of the Boson Celtics.  This New Edition of the Boston Celtics.  Candy girl.  You are my world.  You’re everything, everything.  Everything to me.  This new edition of the Boston Celtics has been everything to me.  I’ve watched this new edition of the Boston Celtics roll through the NBA like an army of steamrollers.  I’ve watched Kevin Garnett take this itty bitty city by storm.  And he’s just getting warm.  What Dollar Bill Simmons neglects to tell you is: Kevin Garnett and the Celtics play lockdown defense.  Shockdown defense.  Plymouth Rockdown defense.  The Lakers ain’t gonna fall on Plymouth Rock, my brothers and sisters, Plymouth Rock is gonna land on them.  The best defense in the free world is gonna land on them.  Paul Pierce is gonna land on ‘em too.  Like my main Winston Curchill always says, “A lie gets halfway around the world before the Truth has a chance to get its pants on.”  The Truth has got its pants on now all right.  Got his pants on and put this ballclub on his back.  Put this ballclub on his back and carried them to the promised land.  Mister I ain’t a boy.  No, I’m a man.  And I believe in the Promised land.  There’s been the emergence of the kids.  Rondo and Perk.  There’s been the reemergence of Sugar Ray Allen.  There have been plenty of reasons to love these Boston Celtics.  So while you’re basking in the glory of years gone by, don’t lose sight of the here and now.  Just stay right here folks ’cause these are the good old days. 

Public Acknowledgements:  Johnny Most, XTC, REM, Beastie Boys, Field of Dreams, LL Cool J, Malcolm X, Bruce Springsteen and Carly Simon

Public Spectacle:

Peace out Lakers.  Six two and Even!

Josh Q. Public:  I am number one.  No matter if you like it.  Ready take this sit down and write it.  I am number one.  Hey hey hey hey hey hey.  -Nelly

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  I know what you’re thinking.  You’re thinking, hey Public, first you do lovey-dovey piece on Mariano Rivera and now this?  What, have you grown soft?  Ok, ok.  Before I get into this, just know, I hate the Lakers.  The fakers.  The dirty rotten snakers.  I hated Magic.  I hated Big Game James.  I hated Dancing Barry.  I hated Riles.  Showtime.  All of it.  The greatest moment in my sporting life occurred when Kevin McHale went all Stan Bad Man Hansen and smashed Kurt Rambis to the ground.  Cornbread Maxwell:   “Before Kevin McHale hit Kurt Rambis, the Lakers were just running across the street whenever they wanted.”   Kevin McHale stopped all that nonsense.  Kevin McHale forever changed the way Pat Riley coached basketball.  No more open court game.  No more Showtime.  No more poetry in motion.  It’s poetry in motion.  And when she turned her eyes to me.  As deep as any ocean.  As sweet as any harmony.  But I digress.  I hate the Lakers.  Ipso facto, I hate Kobe.  But the cat sure is good.  I don’t bother chasing mice around.  Singin’ the blues while the lady cats cry:  “Wild stray cat, you’re a real gone guy.”  Kobe’s a real gone guy.  A real gone guy in crunch time.  Crunch and munch time.  In round house punch time.  Kobe round house punched the reigning World Champeen Spurs real good like.   Round house punched the reigning World Champeen Spurs and once again, carried his team.  He carried his team once again in Game Five of the Western Conference Finals.  Kobe has been called a lot of things.  He’s been called selfish.  He’s been called a phillanderer, and worse.  He’s been called a baby.  Baby, baby.  Stick your head in gravy.  Wrap it up in bubble gum
and send it to the Navy.  Maybe deservedly so.  But now, now, you can just call him clutch.  Michael Jordan clutch.  Larry Bird clutch.  Reggie Miller clutch.  Jerry West clutch.  Last night, the Lakers came out flat.  Lifeless.  Bloodless.  Spiritless.  Enter the Mamba.  You have offended my family and you have offended the Shaolin Temple.  Enter the Mamba with 6:33 to go in the second quarter.  The Mamba turned a seventeen point blowout into a manageble six-point halftime deficit.  He wasn’t done yet.  Not by a long shot.  He scored twenty-six points after halftime.  He scored seventeen points in the fourth quarter.  He nailed long distance jumpers.  He attacked the basket.  He made ridiculous fadeaways.  He hit runners.  He willed his team to victory.  That’s what clutch players do.  They make the clutchest of plays in the clutchest of moments to win the clutchest of games.  Now Kobe takes his clutchness to the NBA Finals.  He takes his clutchness to the NBA Finals and attempts to do what naysayers have long naysaid he could not do.  He takes his clutchness to the NBA Finals and attempts to win a ring without the Big Cactus.  Love him or hate him, he’s clutch.  Bill James be damned. 

Public Acknowledgements:  Thomas Dolby, Stray Cats and Bruce Lee

Public Spectacle: 

Peace out Spurs.  Six Two and Even!

 

Josh Q. Public:  And tomorrow we might not be together.  I’m no prophet and I don’t know nature’s ways.  So I’ll try and see into your eyes right now.  And stay right here ’cause these are the good old days.  -Carly Simon

Public Service Announcement:  OK, here we go!  Guess who’s back, back again.  Shady’s back, tell a friend.  Yup, tell a friend.  Tell a friend the Celtics are back.  Tell a friend the Lakers back.  Back in the mix.  Back to their old tricks.    Getting their kicks.  Been feeling a little empty without them getting in their licks.  My bed’s too big without you.  Sure the Lakers had their fill.  Threepeated their fill.  Filled with rings up to their gills.  But it just wasn’t the same.  Wasn’t the same without the Celtics in the game.  It might feel good.  Sound a lil’ somethin’.  Bit damn the game if it don’t mean nuttin’.  It means something now.  It ain’t Russell/Chamberlin.  A rivalry between two legendary centers that defined basketball in the ’60s.  It ain’t Cooz/West.  Two of the greatest playmakers to ever lay a handle on the rock.  It ain’t Larry/Magic.  The dynamic duo who resuscitated the NBA and gave new life to March Madness.  It ain’t McHale/Big Game James.  Second fiddles to no one.  Nobody puts baby in the corner.  It ain’t them.  It ain’t me babe.  It doesn’t have to be.  Center stage on the mic.  And we’re puttin’ it on wax.  It’s the new style.  It’s the new Big Three.  It’s the Big Ticket.  It’s Ray Ray.  It’s the Truth.  It’s the new Showtime.  It’s Kobe Bean.  It’s Kung Pau.  It’s Andrew Bynum.  Even before Gasol’s arrival, the old rivalry has been heating up.  When the Celtics played the Lakers in their if you dare wear short-shorts, Nair for short-shorts at the Staples Center earlier in the season, the rivalry was already heating up.  Sweetening up.  Grade A meatening it up.  When the Celtics played the Lakers at the Staples Center earlier in the season Paul Pierce and Lamar Odom immediately began a shoving match.  Kevin Garnett and Trevor Ariza earned early technicals for a shoving match of their own.  A League of Their Own.  To achieve the incredible you have to attempt the impossible.  In all, five technicals were called in the first half.  Seven in the game.  Garnett bled from his eye.  A frustrated Odom smashed into Ray Allen late in the game and notched a flagrant foul.  Ultimately, the Celtics won handily.  Dandidly.  But that was pre-Pau.  Now anything is possible.  Impossible is nothing.  Now, you, me and David Stern are begging for a Celtics/Lakers final.  Why not?  The Spurs aren’t so jingly this year.  Not so jangly this year.  The Suns are desperately trying to keep up.  Desperately Seeking Susan.  New Orleans?  C’mon.  Meanwhile, with Pau, the Lakers have evolved into arguably the best rebounding team in the league.  Meanwhile, with Pau, the Lakers have a bona fide second option on the offensive end.  In the East, the Celtics are rolling, rolling, rolling though the streets are swollen with the best record in the league.  Rolling with the best defense in basketball.  So why not now?  Why not them?  Why not go back to the future?  Yes.  Yes.  I’m George, George McFly.  I’m your density. I  mean…your destiny.  Why not one of the NBA’s most enduring rivalries?   NBA Action.  Where amazing happens.  I love this game.  Fan-tastic!

Public Acknowledgements:  Eminem, The Police, Public Enemy, Dirty Dancing, Bob Dylan, Gregg Patton, Adidas, Madonna and Rawhide

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Josh Q. Public:  Nobody, but nobody, puts ketchup on a hot dog anymore!  -Harry Callahan 

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  Did you see it?  Did you see Pau?  Kung Pau.  Biff #### eee-yow ka-Pau.  NBA action.  Where amazing happens.  Fan-tastic!  I love this game!  Let’s get this straight right off the bat.  I hate the Lakers.  I hated Showtime.  I hated Dancing Barry.  I hated Magic.  I hated Kareem.  I never hated Shaq, but I do hate Kobe.  But, if I’m a Lakers fan, I love this trade.  Pau can score inside.  Pau can score outside.  His moves down in the box remind folks of Kevin McHale.  He’s ambidextrous.  And like my main man Yogi Berra always says:  “Boy, I’d give my right arm to be ambidextrous.”  In his debut last night, Pau showed why the Lakers were willing to give a right arm to get him.  Ok, ok.  Maybe not a right arm.  Maybe a left pinky toe.  But still.  The brand spakinest newest Laker looked spec-TAC-ular last night.  Marv Albert style.  Pau Gasol notched twenty-four points.  Pau Gasol reeled in twelve rebounds.  Pau Gasol dished out forty cents.  Gasol went ten for fifteen from the field.  He scored from everywhere.  Underneath.  Mid-range.  Put backs.  Off the pick and roll.  Here there and everywhere.  I want her everywhere, and if she’s beside me I know I need never care.  Kobe now knows if Pau’s beside him, he need never care.  Kobe Bean:  “He’s an incredible player.  He makes everybody’s life easier.”  Translation:  Now, when they double me, they will pay.  The Nets paid.  Sean Williams paid.  Paid down on the blocks.  Josh Boone paid.  Paid around the glass.  Yes!  And the foul!  Made them all pay in the fourth quarter.  Up only four to start the fourth quarter.  Eleven big points in the big fourth quarter.  Five for five from the field in the big fourth quarter.  Five big rebounds in the big fourth quarter.  One big pass in the big fourth quarter.  You saw it.  Saw it on Yes.  Saw it on KCAL.  Saw it on Sports Center.  You saw point guard Derek Fisher leading the break.  You saw him get it underneath to Pau.  You saw Pau barely touch the rock as he flipped it over his head from his position in the low post.  You saw Fish catch it without breaking stride and drop said rock into the basket.  Dare I say it?  Showtime, baby!  Showtime.  Wait ’til Kobe’s finger is not so numb.  Wait ’til Andrew Bynum gets back.  You just wait.  You take it on faith, you take it to the heart.  The waiting is the hardest part.

Public Acknowledgements:  Batman, Beatles, Elliott Teaford, Mike Bresnahan and Tom Petty

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Josh Q. Public:  Then leaf subsides to leaf.  So Eden sank to grief.  So dawn goes down to day.  Nothing gold can stay.  -Robert Frost

Public Service Announcement:  Ok, here we go!  First thing’s first.  Let’s get this straight.  I love the Big Aristotle.  Shaq Daddy.  Superman.  Shaq Diesel.  Wilt Chamberneezy.  Shaq Fu.  The Big Baryshnikov.  The Showman of the Big Men.  Dr. Shaq.  The Real Deal.  I love Shaquille O’Neal.  I love him, but it’s over.  Havlicek steals it!  Over to Sam Jones!  Havlicek stole the ball! It’s over!  It’s all over!  O’Neal will undergo an MRI to determine if the severity of his lingering hip injury has changed.  Whatever the results, it’s time for the big fella to hang up those size twenty-threes.  For a generation, Shaquille O’Neal has been the best center in basketball.  One of the most dominant big men in history.  Most bombinant big man in history.  A beast in the low post.  Having a feast in the low post.  The high priest in the low post.  However, the Shaquille O’Neal of today is not the same Shaq of yesterday.  Yesterday.  All my troubles seemed so far away.  Now it looks as though they’re here to stay.  Oh, I believe in yesterday. The Shaquille O’Neal of today is not the same Shaq that ripped down rims.  The Shaquille O’Neal of today is not the same Shaq that tore down backboards.  The Shaquille O’Neal of today is not the same Shaq that led the Los Angeles Lakers to three championships.  The Shaquille O’Neal of today is not even the same Shaq that led Miami to another one.  Maybe I’m selfish.  Selfish like a shellfish.  But I want to see Shaq Daddy go out in a blaze of glory.  My my, hey hey.  It’s better to burn out than to fade away.  My my, hey hey.  I want to remember Shaq as the three time NBA Finals MVP.  I want to remember Shaq as the NBA scoring champ.  I want to remember Shaq as coming up just one vote short of becoming the first unanimous MVP in the NBA.  I want to remember that drop step.  The Black Tornado.  I want to remember that little righty hook.  I don’t want to see Half-a-Shaq.  I don’t want to see Guy LaFleur toiling for the Nordiques and Rangers.  I don’t want to see Michael with the Wizards.  Say Hey with the Mets.   Hakeem Olajuwan in a Toronto Raptors uniform.  I understand why sports stars even twenty years ago stayed in the game too long.  Salaries weren’t anywhere near where they are today. Shaq has duckets.  Buckets of duckets.  Get out now Shaq.  Get out while you still can.  Get out while the getting’s good.  You will be missed, and that’s a good thing.

Public Acknowledgements:  Johnny Most, Beatles and Neil Young

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six Two and Even!

I was going to write a piece on Kobe.  I changed my mind.  But when researching, I found this:

Ray Allen, 2004: 

"If Kobe doesn't see he needs two and a half good players to be a legitimate playoff contender or win a championship in about a year or two he'll be calling out to Jerry Buss that 'We need some help in here,' or 'Trade me.  And we'll all be saying, 'I told you so,' when he says that."

Public Spectacle:

Peace out homies.  Six two and Even!

Josh Q. Public:  I am always ready to learn although I do not always like being taught. -Winston Churchill

1.  When my fantasy baseball draft comes around, I’m picking D-Nice.  Gy-Ro-Mite!  I may even pick him too early.  I don’t care.  I haven’t been this excited about every fifth day since Pedro left town.

2.  More Sox talk?  Sure, why not.  Beltin’ Todd Helton.  Hasn’t been beltin’ for a couple of years now.  My first thought goes to steroids.  It’s just gross that’s the way we have to think now.  Just like it’s gross every time there’s a power outage or gas truck explosion we think terrorism.  Oops.  Just got political.  Sorry folks.  Todd Helton.  That’s a lot of lefties, no?  Papi, Drew and Helton.  I don’t care.  I like it.   A batting order with David Ortiz, Manny, J.D. Drew and Helton.  Goodness.

3.  The Super Bowl is getting closer and closer.  I find myself caring less and less.  Is that wrong?  Tell me there’s gonna be some Terrible Terry Tate commercials and maybe I’ll start to care a little more.

4.   When is the Shield coming back on?  C’mon guys, the joke is over.  We’ll be good.

5.  Vee Dot Carter.   Finally playing harder.  Competition is nada.  Filled it up for forty on Saturday.  Twenty in the fourth.  Nets end their record tying, three game, lose by one point, on the other guy’s last possession streak.  Carter just had thirty-three versus the Clips and a career high thirteen assists against the Wiz.  Nobody beats the Wiz.  Nobody.

6.  Stanford bears down.  Bears down to beat the number three UCLA Bruins.  Maybe its because I’m an East Coast guy.  I dunno.  I never believed in UCLA from the giddy-up.  As good as Arron Aflallo is, I just don’t see it.

7.  Seven-time Cy Young winner Roger Clemens isn’t prepared to say whether he’ll be back for another season.  Here we go.  Here we go again.  Here comes the Roger Clemens dog and pony show.  The Roger Clemens dog and pony show coming soon to a town near you.  Between him and Ted Stroehmann’s boy Brett Favre, I’ve just about had enough. 

8.  I know I’m gonna get killed on this one but, the Tiger and Federer stories don’t move me.  Don’t groove me.  Don’t J-Schmoove me.  I understand they may be the most dominating athletes out there, but I’m just not feeling the country club sports.  Never have.  I need action.  I need action for my satisfaction. 

9.  Here keep coming the Suns.  Again and again and again.  The Suns defeated the Cavs 115-100 on Sunday for their 33rd win in their past 35 games.  Only three other teams in NBA history went 33-2 over a 35-game span in one season: the Kobe and Shaq’s Lakers in 2000; Michael and  the Jordanaires in 1995-96; and Jerry West, Wilt Chamberlain and Elgin Baylor of the ‘72 Lakers.  How did that ‘72 Laker team ever lose?

10.  Here you go Dusty.  The Mamba scored six of the Lakers’ 14 points in overtime against the Spurs.  He now has accounted for a total of 50 of his team’s 106 points in OT this season. The Lakers have 38 games to play this season, but number twenty-four has already scored more OT points than any other player in any season since Fab Fiver Jalen Rose tallied 51 points in overtime in 2000-01.

Peace out homies.  Six Two and Even!