Tuesday, June 14, 2011

How To Go On?

LeBron James was right about one thing. I woke up this morning, just as he predicted, with the same problems that I had before his ignominious failure in the NBA finals. I’m still 66, certain that I’m single-handedly financing the Mercedes and the Jaguar that my dentist and doc are driving, still have three grown children that I worry about in spite of their strong marriages and success in their careers, and I have less hair and more wrinkles than yesterday. Alas. Woe is me. How can I make it through the muck and mire of the life of a nobody who never gets pandered to by guys like the lacquer-coiffed Pat Riley, a paid-for entourage of homeys and yes-dudes, and stroked by super cool super stars? Might as well sign up for one of those assisted suicide tours to Oregon.


There are a few things I might miss. My wife grows lovelier every day, my children always remember to call even when there is nothing new and exciting to talk about - and I can still beat them at golf -, my grandson always makes me laugh with his recent attempts at walking, I can still rip through the twisties on a motorcycle, and, eat your heart out, I get to hang with Picasner if and when we're awake at the same time.


So, LeBron, I’ll guess I’ll hang in there and bear the pain for at least one more day. In fact, if I can hang on until you either win a championship or grow up, I might live forever.


Finally, after all these years, everyone loves Dirk, including my wife who has been wearing her Dirk shirt non-stop throughout the playoffs. He has earned all the props with a fabulous and gutsy performance against the Heat. Of course, he didn’t do it alone. Jason Kidd proved that a cane, glasses, and hearing aid need not be a hindrance to playing championship basketball and JJ Berea demonstrated that you can’t defend what you can’t catch. Still, my vote for The Guy Who Talked the Talk and Then Walked the Walk goes to Jason Terry. After LeBron shut down The Jet in an early game he responded to reporters' questions with “Let’s see if he can do it for seven games.” Clearly, he couldn’t and Terry repeatedly dissected the Heat defense with huge baskets, penetration, and no look passes. And after Dwayne Wade hit that 3 from in front on the Mavs’ bench to run their lead to 15 in the 4th quarter of game 4, who got in LeBron’s grill and told him the game is not over so take your chest bumps and dance moves elsewhere? And who ignited the Mavs rally that turned both the game and the series? The Jet.


Welcome back to earth, Roberto. After suggesting that he, Roberto the Beautiful, would have easily stopped the winning goal in game five OT that bounced off the back of Boston Bruin goal tender Tim Thomas, Roberto was shelled for four goals on only ten shots last night as the Bruins evened the Stanley Cup series at 3-up. Roberto got to spend most of the game sitting on the bench, hidden by a ball cap, while his teammates absorbed another pounding. At least he got extra needed time to work on his post-game quotes.


Yes, America, there is still baseball being played. While hardly as engaging as the NBA finals and the Stanley Cup, it will soon be the only game in town, soccer (?) not withstanding. Derek Jeter’s inexorable march to 3,000 hits provides a much needed distraction from a .260 batting average and a Yankee season marked by mediocre defense, clutchless hitting, and a who-would-believe-it pitching staff. Unless the 200M BoobCrew turns this thing around, Boston might cruise away and hide for the rest of the season.



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