The hands on the hips say it all: “I was the G-Men’s poster boy my first couple of seasons, and then I didn’t get involved as much as I wanted, and we were one and done in the playoffs a few times, and then I was still pissy after we won a SuperBowl (one in which I sat out with a broken leg), but now things are better ’cause I get to play with Reggie Bush.”
While this sounds like a trade made in Madden Heaven if you’re living in N’Awlins, it’s gotta make you question whether Shockey ever truly embraced being a G-Man. After 9/11 he came back with that ridic tat that screamed “U.S. pride” — and even more so “NY pride” — but now he plans to trade in the Big Apple and a SuperBowl ring for a pair of floaties… what, to soon?
Stephon Marbury, Gary Sheffield, and now you can add Jeremy Shockey to the list of bush league cry babies who are unworthy of calling New York “home.”
Back in ‘99, we took the “French pastry”, so what should we call Danilo Gallinari? The f@#king Calzone? I guess some people are saying this kid’s the next Toni Kukoc. Awesome. So he looks like a Poindexter and he’d be a great 5th option on a championship team. Would’ve been a great pick if we were the freaking Celtics. Didn’t Isiah tell Donnie Walsh during his exit interview that we lost, not won, 59 games last year? As a Knick fan, I have no choice other than to try to find the silver lining in everything, so two thoughts: 1) if this kid really is the reincarnation of Kukoc, then Donnie Walsh will look like a genius two years down the line if we really do pair him with another #23– LeBron James. We kinda put the cart before the horse, but at least there seems to be some semblance of a plan at work here; 2) the last time a coach did a favor for a family friend in the draft, it resulted in Mike Piazza being taken with the last pick in the ‘88 MLB draft. Here’s hoping history repeats itself…
1) Trade up to get Mayo– I don’t care what it takes, just make it happen. I’d also suggest that Donnie try to swing a deal with Chicago/Miami for the 1st or 2nd pick, but there’s a better chance of us winning 60 games next year than that happening.
2) Trade Marbury and Malik Rose’s expiring contract for Baron Davis, then draft an athletic big-man like Anthony Randolph (sorry to half-steal your idea, Chuck)– Donnie Walsh has been dropping hints left and right about his willingness to forego drafting a PG if he can acquire an accomplished vet to run the show, and B-Diddy certainly fits the bill. Plus, his contract will come off the books after next season, so putting him in Orange and Blue would accomplish two of Walsh’ main goals– 1) get us well under the cap when LeBron becomes an FA in 2010 and 2) keep us somewhat competitive in the interim. If Davis is in the fold, then we might as well take a gamble on Randolph, who has been compared to Chris Bosh.
3) Trade up to get Mayo– we better f@#kin’ do it!
4) Trade David Lee and Malik Rose to Memphis for the 5th pick and Brian Cardinal, then draft Mayo (if he’s available there, which he won’t be, in which case we should take Russell Westbrook) and Randolph– This isn’t a Monnie D. original obviously, but it’s a pretty decent alternative as far as the “kill two birds with one stone” approach goes. We need a PG and someone who can play above the rim like Chuck mentioned, and we’d get both if we could pull this off. The deal obviously becomes the greatest thing since God created T&A if Mayo slips to 5th. I know, I know, most of you would rather make out with Sarah Jessica Parker than trade D-Lee, but seriously, just because he’s the only white guy on the team doesn’t make him our best player… it just makes him your favorite one. It’s time to get something in return for him before his stock plummets in D’Antoni’s shooter-oriented system.
5) Trade up to get Mayo– I think you get the point.
Unless the Knicks find some way of be in position to draft either O.J. Mayo or Derrick Rose, the Knicks need to demonstrate their desire to really rebuild the team and draft Anthony Randolph because if the goal is to truly secure Lebron James services in 2010, then the Knicks need to add complimentary players… NOW! I know several mock drafts have the Knicks selecting Russell Westbrook or Jerryd Bayless. However, last time I checked, the Knicks’ roster is full of under-sized shooting guards who can’t play the point. So why draft another one??? Or some people say they should look into Danilo Gallinari. Need I remind you all of the success rate of the European big man in the NBA???? Besides Dirk, I am hard pressed to name even one guy who’s become an impact player (Donny-Darko anyone?) And the one guy who does come to mind — Vlade Divac — is retired. Other than Michael Beasley, no other big man has as much potential as Randolph, and he can do one thing that every other Knick big man has trouble doing– playing above the rim. This certainly wouldn’t be the most popular pick, but I think in the long run it will be the best one for the franchise’s future.
This weekend I saw Get Smart. I used to watch it on Nick at Nite and it was pretty funny back in the day. Well, the big screen version was no disappointment as Steve Carrel made you almost pee yourself in playing Maxwell Smart. Duane “The Rock” Johnson also makes an appearance as the Great Khali, both from the WWE.
However the most intriguing performance was that of Anne Hathway. Once Disney’s little princess, she is now a legitimate sex kitten. She’s asked to use her sex appeal in a variety of situations and, I gotta tell ya, it works.
I usually don’t do movie reviews, well, because this is a sports site (although variety and the like has never been discouraged), but I would strongly encourage going to see Get Smart because it’s funny and Anne Hathaway can get it.
To touch on some sports issues though:
1. Shaq’s freestyle was rabbitish and a little weak… Kobe, you could eat my a$$? Very original. Could’ve went with suck my [beep], but a$$ was definitely more crowd-friendly.
2. On a somewhat related note, Ozzie Guillen went freaking nuts two weeks or so ago saying how everyone and everything basically could eat his a$$, and the White Sox have played legitimate baseball since then.
3. Willie Randolph was supposedly doomed before he could get a bona fide crack at turning the Mets around this season… and after last year’s collapse like a back alley boob job, it wasn’t really a surprise. New York is all about winning and if you don’t, your job is in jeopardy… unless you coach the Knicks, then you have a few years and a gajillion dollars before to blow before you’re ousted.
4. “Pacman” Jones no longer wishes to be referred to by his nickname and strictly wants to be known as Adam Jones. I guess it’s easier than having to remember “Prison Number 736492128.”
5. Interleague play is a stellar idea that should be continued as long as possible. Sure, it might take some of the glamour away from the World Series, but in all reality, it’s one of the only times a number of fans can see their teams play with the big dogs in the AL. You can thank us in advance for your best attendance numbers of the season, Pittsburgh Pirates.
6. Maria Sharapova said she would be wearing less flashy clothes at Wimbeldon… and we would continue to watch her play why?
7. Roger Federer extended his win streak on grass courts to 60 straight… why do I feel like this guy does not pull as much a$$ as he should? And if he does, I wanna see what kind of caliber he is pulling, just so I can decide if growing my hair out that long is worth it.
8. Anne Hathaway… just needed to make a shout-out one more time.
The most disappointing part of this whole “freestyle” — if we can even call it that because it’s pretty obvious Shaq’s been rehearsing this since last week; think about it, how many freestyles can you think of off the top of your head that have a chorus — has to be the “Kobe, tell me how my a$$ tastes” line ’cause it really makes no sense whatsoever. I mean I get it, Shaq doesn’t like Kobe, but the only time you’d be tasting something is if you put it in your mouth, and I’m almost positive Shaq’s backside isn’t fitting inside Kobe’s face. I’m guessing he was trying to go with Mike Tyson’s infamous “How my ‘dic-tate’” line here, which is obviously more anatomically appropriate, and just botched it. Oh, you mean the Tyson thing was just the punchline for a bad joke? K, nevermind then. The Ewing thing kinda pisses me off though. Shaq can loose weight faster than he can make a free throw, yet he sees fit to attack the greatest jump-shooting center in NBA history? I don’t remember Shaq winning any championships by himself the way Pat was asked to every year. Dis’ Kobe all you want, you fat bastard, but John Starks he is not.
After watching Kobe Bryant toss up bricks and throw away passes to Pau Gasol all series long, proving yet again that he is not in Michael Jordan’s class, I started thinking about some things. No, not about how a majority of my childhood sports’ memories are of MJ tormenting the Knicks (and for the record, the only fourth quarter memory I have of Scottie Pippen is him refusing to come into the game during the 4th quarter of Game 3 against the Knicks in the 1994 Eastern Conference Semi-finals, which Toni Kukoc won anyway with a fade-away jumper. F#@kin’ Bulls.) Instead, I was wondering what life would be like as a Knick fan if Patrick Ewing had been born in 1982 instead of 1962 and got a chance to play in today’s NBA. Other than Tim Duncan, there are no traditional, dominant big men in the NBA and, most importantly, there is no Michael Jordan. Give any Knick team from 91-92 to 94-95 (maybe even 96-97) a shot in today’s NBA and I’m pretty sure they would go 2-girls-one-cup on the rest of the NBA. A front-line of Ewing, Anthony Mason and Charles Oakley would be the most feared in the league. After a hard foul from Oak, a flagrant from Mase, and 3-consecutive blocked shots by Pat, the opposition wouldn’t be concerned so much about flopping to draw foul calls so much as faking an injury to get the hell out of the game. I mean there isn’t a team in today’s NBA that has anything close to the intimidation factor those old Knick squads had. Actually, today’s NBA is quite soft, and if you check the delivery manifest at every arena, you’ll find that each shipment of basketballs comes with a complimentary crate-full of tampons. I guess Patrick Ewing’s career shows that in addition to talent, you need a little bit o’ luck because if he played in these NBA Finals, he would’ve exposed KG for being the overgrown two-guard that he is.
Where exactly are you “certified,” Kevin? The mental hygiene unit at Mass General? I think telling Michelle Tafoya “You look good, girl,” pretty much confirms that.
Was there some kind of championship won in Boston last night or something? Even if there was, who really cares now that we got this terrible news. Though look at the bright side: that’s two extra Sundays on which we’ll be able to do something other than watch golf now that Eldrick won’t be partaking in the British Open and the PGA Championship (seriously, don’t pretend like you weren’t going to watch after you missed out on all drama at Torrey Pines this past weekend). By the way, doesn’t Tiger’s win just become that much more incredible now that we all know he was literally playing on one leg? Now there’s a real gamer. You hear that, Chienny-Ming? Damn, Tiger not only churns out majors like a U.S. army base, but then he goes ahead and kicks Rocco Mediate out of his underdog role after-the-fact because, honestly, regardless of whether you’re a 45-year-old, over-the-hill chump, you should be able to beat a cripple, no? Ah, Tiger– your greatness knows no bounds. Goodluck with the surgery and see you next year.
PS– About that Boston championship that may or may not have happened last night: obviously what I’m about to say brings me no joy whatsoever, but has there ever been a city that owns the sports world like Beantown does right now? And after seeing the way the C’s absolutely demolished Kobe and Co. this series, you really have to wonder if the conspiracy theorists were right about the Giants’ victory in Super Bowl XLII– that as part of the Patriots’ punishment for Spygate, they had to throw the Super Bowl. I mean really, can you offer any other rational explanation as to why the Patriots are still trying to get a copyright on “19-0″?
So I had it all planned out perfectly: After Kobe Bryant popped one off in Curt Schilling’s eye, made a somewhat derogatory Bill Belichick reference — which, despite the fact that I’m a Patriots fan, I can always appreciate attacks on Boston sports personalities — and was well on his way to blowing the doors off the Celtics in Game 4, I was going to take some time this morning to name Kobe as Subway Chatter’s first-ever honorary New Yorker in recognition of his tireless efforts to desecrate all that is holy in Beantown…
And then the 2nd half happened. To say the Lakers “choked” would be like saying Rosie O’Donnell has trouble keeping weight off. The Lakers basically put a wet paper towel down their throats, held it there for five or so minutes, then pulled it out with their esophagal wall attached such that their own acid reflux seeped into their wind pipe, burned a hole through it, and then they gasped for air for a good two minutes before asphyxiating. Yeah, it was that bad. Obviously this series is over (and my prediction was wrong) and hopefully the Celtics will do the honorable thing and put the Lakers out of their misery Sunday night because this “dream” Finals has turned into a nightmare. I mean first it was the Donaughy thing, and now this? Someone better go check on David Stern because he’s been in the bathroom for about two hours now and the tub water is still running.
Despite my abject hatred for the Celtics, I’ve discovered the silver lining in all this– at least for today, and maybe through this entire weekend, it’s way worse being a Laker fan than it is being a Knick fan. Been a long-ass time since I’ve been able to say something like that! To celebrate I’m going to check out one of the two summer blockbusters that released today, The Incredible Hulk or The Happening. I haven’t decided which one I’m gonna go to yet, though I’m very much leaning in the direction of The Happening. I mean what kind of American infidel would I be if I didn’t watch a horror flick on this unofficial-official pagan holiday? Plus, M. Night Shyamalan has gotten me to piss my pants a couple times wielding only a PG-13 rating, so I’m kinda interested to see what he can do with an “R” at his disposal. Either way, I promise a review of whichever movie I see on Monday… that is if MFH and I manage to survive the night on our buddy’s birthday party-bus tomorrow.
So most people are convinced the NBA is back: we’ve got the Lakers and the Celtics in the Finals, David Stern is busy whacking it to the Nielsen projections, and this is the first time since, well, probably the last matchup between these two franchises in the ‘87 Finals, that we have this star-studded of a cast vying for the Larry O’Brien trophy. But regardless, I’m not buying the hype… at least not until the NBA agrees to put these games on NBC and bring back that unmistakable cheesy intro music (it was written by John Tesh, no joke) that got everyone from the casual fan to the biggest of NBA die-hards jacked up for some round-ball. And in honor of the greatness that was– and continues to be, thanks to you Youtube– the NBA on NBC, I’ll break down this Finals matchup just like it would’ve shaken out had the Commish not been stupid enough to sell his soul to ESPN and ABC…
Player who would’ve benefitted from the “Jordan Rules”: only an idiot wouldn’t know that Kobe would get the royal treatment a la MJ back in the day. Problem is– at least if you’re a Celtic fan– those rules still apply for today’s superstars, especially for Bryant. Now while that may be a foregone conclusion, it’s anyone’s guess who’ll rack up an endless string of technical fouls trying to guard KB considering the C’s are likely to rotate defenders all series long. Either way, the Kobe fellating will be good for at least 12-15 additional points per game for the Lakeshow.
Player who Marv Albert would’ve, um, gotten “excited” about every time he did anything even remotely athletic: again, Kobe gets the nod here, and figure Ray Allen to be Kobe’s b*tch in any number of these situations, just like when MJ would sh*t on John Starks’ face in the mid-90s, and Marv Albert would smear it in with a little extra annunciation on his customary “YES! It counts, and the foooouuullll.” As an 11-year-old, I could never understand how a life-long Knicks’ broadcaster could openly root for a guy who would murder the team he worked for. Ah to be young, naive, and have no clue that Marv Albert dressed up like a female dominatrix on road trips again.
Player who Ahmad Rashad would’ve cornered for interviews after MJ/the most intriguing superstar in the series if MJ was in retirement would tell him to f@#k off after Game 1: that’d be Paul Pierce here ’cause he’s sneaky itching for the spotlight with the gang signs and all. Some might say Garnett, but he’s too much of a team guy for that crap.
Person (player or coach) who would tell Jim Gray to f#@k off and die during the Championship celebration interview: Kobe’s a good candidate for this one as well, but I’d have to go with Phil Jackson here. All it would take is one question about Kobe’s trade demand in the offseason and Jim Gray would have yet another guy on a long list of them, aka the ‘99 New York Yankees, who refuse to speak to him.
Steve Kerr/John Paxson type who you wouldn’t even know is on the championship teams’ roster until he hits like 3 game-winners: Derek Fisher. This one’s not even close.
Player who Bill Walton would claim is the greatest center in NBA history despite the fact that he’s the 3rd best player on his own team: Walton loves-loves-loves goofy white guys who have trouble getting up and down the court, and can barely touch rim even though they’re 7-foot. In other words, he loves himself. Pau Gasol unquestionably fits the bill here, and even goes above and beyond the call of duty in the oaf department.
Coach Peter Vescey would claim with absolute certainty will be fired if his team loses the series because a “well-placed source” (actually the guy sitting next to him on the 7 train) told him so: This one’s a wash. Both coaches are so firmly entrenched in management’s good graces that Vescey can’t even get the voice inside his own head to dish any dirt on them.
Final tally: Lakers 5, Celtics 1
In all seriousness though, somehow the Celtics have become a chic title pick once again thanks to their drubbing of the Pistons. I guess everyone forgot how much trouble they had with the 37-win Hawks and the one-man-show Cavs? Obviously they struggle to defend elite athletes, and the Lakers have plenty of those to go along with hoards of talent. This series won’t be as lopsided the numbers above indicate, but it won’t be that close either. Pick: Lakers in 6
Guess I’m a hardcore Laker fan until further notice…
On a completely unrelated note– as many of you already know by now, women across the country have threatened to turn May 30th - June 1st into “National Psycho-b*tch-who’s-heinously-ugly-but-for-some-unexplained-reason-she-thinks-she’s-hot-because-in-the-TV-show-that-she-bases-her-life-on-Sarah-Jessica-Parker-and-her-crew-of-equally-disgusting-bimbos-get-with-madd-guys Weekend” with the release of the Sex and the City movie. That being the case, I implore you, proud members of SC Nation (yes, that includes all you lovely, non-conformist ladies out there), to do your part in boycotting this assault on all that is good and decent in the world by doing any of the following: watching ass-loads of sports, thumbing your nose at any and all women who have an attitude that doesn’t match their level of attractiveness, and hooking up with as many chicks as humanly possible without ever having the decency to return their phone calls once you seal the deal (and if you’re a girl, I guess that means you should watch endless amounts of sports with your dude and, if you can stomach the thought of it, stop making the kissy-face in all you pictures… well, at least for this weekend). Together we can all do our part to make sure that Sarah Jessica Parker’s tentacles do not extend beyond the minds of the mid-20s to 50-year-old women that she’s already poisoned with her foot-faced awfulness…
Last night I was watching Sports Center and they were talking about the fact that Brett Favre’s locker is still intact in the Green Bay locker room. Then someone commented about how Aaron Rogers must feel seeing it every time he walks by. The truth of the matter is, who gives a flying monkey f*ck what Rogers thinks. Favre is one of the most revered players of his generation, as is evinced by the pic of him with his mouth open in jubilation after a victory. The guy’s father dies and he has a career night on MNF (regardless of whether or not it was against the Raiders). Rogers should see that locker and know what he has to live up to… motivation can be a powerful little tool.
The comments on Rogers got me thinking about another athlete who is supposed to be the savior of a sport– much like Favre was the golden child of Green Bay and the NFL as a whole– and Sydney Crosby popped into my head. This kid is supposed to get hockey back on track, er, notch at least 2 more fans by the end of the year. His job is difficult, much like Kirstie Alley’s attempt to get back to her Cheers-figure days. But he could do it. He also has the charisma that Favre has and he plays with an emotion well beyond his years. Could he get the attention of fans that hockey needs (and trust me, it is needed… go to a bar and see how many TVs are turned to the Stanley Cup Playoffs and then compare it with how many have golf on instead)? Maybe we won’t know the answer to that for a few years. But, if he can get me to watch a game or two, he has a helluva chance.
So who is the next big thing? Who will take their sport to a level that we have yet to see? King James has made us all “Witnesses”; baseball has a number of players that could be argued as the reason why thousands of fans watch and pack stadiums everyday; but who will step up and make sure that all sports have passionate followers? Who will be found on the streets playing stick ball only to be in the majors when they come of age? Who will take a driver at the age of 5 and hit it straight down the fairway? Who will take a raquet and be unstoppable on both clay and artificial courts? Who will get behind the wheel and make sure that people who aren’t named Billy Bob will watch machines go in an oval 300 times? Who will sleep with Pamela Anderson and not catch a venereal disease? Who will it be?
Ah nice, one of the great rivalries in recent NBA history renews tonight when the Spurs and Lakeshow link up at Staples. The last time these two teams threw down I was still in college, Shaq was still in shape (and a Laker), and San Antonio wasn’t a dynasty yet. This time around the Spurs have the whole “Never underestimate the heart of a champion” thing going for them, while the Lakers have the greatest player on the planet and reigning MVP in their corner. That being the case, this thing really could go either way. Sure, LA’s been the most impressive team of the playoffs thus far, but Timmy D. and Co. could eek this thing out because 1) as crazy as this sounds, Bruce Bowen has the ability to neutralize Kobe Bryant and 2) the Spurs have pulled out enough of these series that they seemingly have no business winning to do it again here for the up-teenth time. Still, when in doubt, I go with the team that has the best player in the series and regardless of Bowen’s cheap-shots, clearly that guy is Kobe. Pick: Lakers in 6 (at least they better have it wrapped up by then ’cause I don’t see the Spurs losing a Game 7)
So just about a year a ago, it looked like the NBA was dead. All of us had just sat through arguably the worst postseason of the last two decades (or just didn’t bother to watch… either way, it sucked), and as if people didn’t feel like the NBA playoffs were the biggest joke this side of Paris Hilton’s music career after Amare Stoudemire was suspended for Game 5 of the Suns/Spurs series, Tim Donaghy jumped on the scene and pretty much confirmed what we all suspected ever since Michael Jordan converted his first three-point-play without a defender within 5-feet of him: at least one referee, and probably more– though the NBA would sooner contract 20 teams than admit to it– was rigging games.
What a difference a year makes. The NBA better be careful, because it’s in danger of becoming relevant again after one of the most competitive seasons in league history– all 8 playoff teams out West won at least 50 games– has yielded the most entertaining playoffs since the good ol’ “Jordan’s Bulls/Ewing’s Knicks” days. And to top it all off, we now get the two best teams in each conference going at it for the right to move on to the NBA Finals…
Alright, my apologies for the somewhat long intro, but you have to understand– for an NBA junkie like me, this is about as good as it gets (short of the Knicks being competitive again, and I’ll get to that in a minute). I haven’t been this excited about a conference finals that didn’t involve the Knicks since… well, never. I’m not sure if it’s the NBA finally putting out a high quality product that’s worth watching, or more a case of the ultimate effect of the Knicks’ yearly suckiness finally kicking in and compelling me to watch good basketball, but I’m willing to give David Stern the benefit of the doubt here.
Before I forget… as you’ve probably heard, the Draft Lottery is being held from 7:30-8, and stands to be the best thing to come out of Jersey since White Castle if you’re a Knick fan… or the worst thing since Matchbox 20 (update: I confused dead Wendy’s mogul Dave Thomas for Rob Thomas. Happens every day, right? Thanks to devo for the tip. How bout’ this: the worst thing to come out of Jersey since emo music, and people who dress up like emo musicians) depending on how the ping pong balls fly up the chute tonight. Being the beleaguered Knick fan that I am, I’m preparing for the worst case scenario, which would be falling out of the five spot all the way down to eight. As it is, we’ve only got a 7.4% chance of winning the damn thing, which is another way of saying, “It ain’t happening.” But if it does? I’m pre-ordering my Derrick Rose jersey at 8:01pm.
Anyway, here’s how I see this Celtics/Pistons series playing out: in all honesty, I’m not sure how this thing goes back to Boston without the Pistons having an opportunity to clinch in Game 5. The C’s are basically giving tonight’s game away after they labored through another 7-game series, while the Pistons have just been chillin’, getting Chauncey Billups healthy enough to drop an enormous deuce on Rajon Rondo and Sam Cassell. Everyone’s talking about how in spite of Boston’s struggles on the road in these playoffs, no one has proven they can beat them at home, which still makes them a viable championship threat. Well that’s all about change real fast ’cause it wouldn’t shock me if the Pistons took Game 2 either (though I’m not actually saying it’ll happen). Garnett, Pierce, and that guy who claims to be Ray Allen have managed to survive by the skin of their teeth thanks to playing against guys that didn’t know how to get it done in a hostile environment– first the Hawks, and then every Cavalier not named LeBron James. And let’s face it: if you take away LeBron (I know you can’t, but just go with me here), it basically took the Celtics seven games to beat a team whose second best player had more turnovers (6) than assists (5) in Game 7, and he was the f#$king point guard (Delonte West)!!! Call me crazy, but I just don’t see guys like Billups, Rip Hamilton, and Tayshaun Prince having those kinds of issues. When my beloved Patriots lost like dogs in the Super Bowl, I said I’d be willing to make that sacrifice if it meant Boston teams would roll through their regular seasons and then choke on their own vomit in the playoffs, and it looks like I’m going to be rewarded for my faithfulness. Can’t wait to see what fate has in store for the Sox this year! Pick: Pistons in 6
