Monday, November 16, 2009

You're so vain, you probably think this post is about you....

Well, this is a rare treat.

Just three days after handing the “Ass-Clown of the Year” award to d-bag Chris Surette – whose “Walk of Shame” column is currently being specially printed onto 20 rolls of toilet paper for use in my apartment building’s public bathroom – I am blessed with the honor of handing out yet another prestigious award:

Congratulations Bill Belichick, you’re this year’s recipient of “The Arrogant Bone-headed Call of the Year Award.”

And to think, I thought it was going to Rick Pitino*

The only possible way you can explain Belichick’s decision to go for it on 4th and 2 from his own 28 while leading by 6 last night is pure and unadulterated arrogance. Even Andy Reid knows you punt that ball and trust your defense to hold the opposition to a field goal in that situation!!!

(Though apparently Reid does not know you go for it on 4th and 1 from the opposition 1-yard line when trailing by two scores in the second quarter**.)

For anyone who might have packed it in and gone to bed after the Pats scored on the opening drive of the fourth quarter, putting them up 31-14, here’s a quick recap of what happened in the final 12:00 minutes of play:

• Peyton drives 79-yards and hits Pierre Garcon on a 29-yard touchdown strike when Leigh “Toast” Bodden bites on the pump fake.

• Pats fail to do anything with the ball on their next possession and punt.

• Peyton throws an interception on the first play of the Colts next possession. Pats drive 51-yards for a Gostkowski FG, putting them ahead 34-21 and seemingly sealing the victory with 4:12 remaining in the game.

• Peyton leads another 79-yard touchdown drive – greatly aided by a horrendous pass interference call on Pats DB Darius Butler – scoring in just 1:23 to put the Colts within 6 with 2:23 left to play.

That’s when it happened… when Belichick inexplicably morphed into “Reid 2.0: Bigger, Bolder, Dumber.”

The Pat’s got the ball back on their own 20 after a touchback on the Pat McAfee kickoff, and before even running the first play of the drive Brady was forced to burn a timeout***.

THE FIRST PLAY OF THE DRIVE!!!

How do you take the field on the first play of a drive without knowing which play you’re going to run and which plays you can audible to depending on where the defense lines up?

So, now the Pats run their first play with only one timeout remaining, getting just under a yard on a Kevin Faulk run up the gut. Indy calls its first timeout. Brady completes an 8-yard pass to Wes Welker on second down, but he’s still 2-yards shy of the 1st down. Indy calls its second timeout. Brady tosses a short pass to Welker on 3rd down that falls incomplete. The clock stops because of the incomplete pass.

The play clock starts to tic, and the Pats face a 4th and 2 from their own 28. Belichick has roughly 15-seconds to decide whether to punt, go for it, or line up and try to draw the defense offsides and then call his remaining timeout and punt. Those are your three options as a coach in this situation.

INSTEAD of doing any of those things, Belichick calls his third and final timeout without even having his offense line up and try to draw the Colts offsides!!!

Why?!? Why Bill?!? WHY?

This is about as classic Andy Reid as it gets – indecisive play calling, squandering timeouts, just overall poor clock management.

Then, it happens. The Patriots offense returns to the field and lines up for the snap as the following conversation takes place in living rooms across New England:

Person A: What is he doing? Are they going for it?

Person B: They can’t be. They’re on their own 28. You can’t give the ball back to Manning inside the 30 with this much time left and expect him not to score. They must be trying to see if they can draw them offsides then they’ll punt.

Person A: They just used their last timeout though, they can’t make the switch. They’re going for it.

Person B: (Nervously in a low tone) They can’t be.

Person A: They are.

Person B: (Silence)…… I like it! I like the call!!! Let’s go!!!

Barack was right, the human disposition toward optimism and hope when facing seemingly insurmountable odds certainly is audacious.

There is 2:08 remaining in the game at this point. If you have a good punter – and the Patriots have a fantastic one in Chris Hanson – you have him kick it high here in order to bring the clock down to the two-minute warning. So then, you potentially have Peyton getting the ball on his own 25-40 yard-line with 2:00 minutes left and only 1 timeout.

Dangerous? Absolutely. Peyton might be one of the most dangerous quarterbacks in the game in that situation. But when the alternative is giving him the ball on your 28 with 1 timeout and the two-minute warning???

Yes, I’m aware there was another scenario in play; the one where the Pats make the first down, run out the clock, Peyton stays on the sidelines and Belichick is heralded as a “genius” once again for his gutsy play-calling. But therein lies my point.

Belichick was well aware of everything I just broke down in the previous paragraphs when he made the decision to go for it on fourth down.

He knew the potential consequences of his decision, and rather than make the simple call, the call to punt the ball, the call that the majority of coaches in the NFL would have made under the same circumstances and might have given HIS TEAM its best chance to win, he chose to make the riskier call with the potential to make HIM look like genius.

In an unapologetic display of arrogance, Belichick chose the chance for individual glory over the potential for shared victory.

If the Patriots punt the ball and manage to stop Manning and earn a win, the story in today’s headlines reads “Patriot’s 4th QTR defensive stand saves victory.”

But, if the Patriots make that first down? If Kevin Faulk doesn’t bobble the ball and gets his forward progress awarded? If Belichick had saved that one last timeout and challenged the forward progress? If the Patriots somehow get that first down, then the story in today’s headlines reads “Belichick’s gutsy call seals victory.”

Bill Belichick decided to turn 2:08 of clock into a one play game that was all about him on Sunday night, and that’s why on Monday morning he’s the proud recipient of 2009’s Arrogant Bone-headed Call of the Year Award.

Congrats Bill. Make sure you talk with Chris Surette at the after-party, he might have some pointers on how you can still pick up chicks now that you’re no longer a football genius.

___________________________________________________
*You know, for the whole get woman pregnant, force her to abort, convince assistant to marry her and pay them to keep quiet thing, Allegedly.

**See Philadelphia Eagles at San Diego Chargers, Nov. 15, 2009. Reid elected to kick a FG in this spot, as well as again in the 3rd quarter when facing a 4th and 1 from the Chargers 7-yard line. The Eagles lost by 8 points. For those of you lacking in the math department, the point differential between a FG and TD (plus PAT) is 4. The difference between the two FGs kicked on 4th and 1 instead of the TDs that could have been scored had Reid elected to go for it? 8 points.

***Now might be a good time for an NFL Replay Challenge Semantics refresher. In order to initiate a coach’s challenge in the NFL, you must have at least one time out remaining. This is because the way a coach is penalized for an incorrect challenge is via the loss of a timeout. If you could still challenge without a timeout, then what’s to prevent a coach from challenging every play after he’s burned his final timeout, he’s got nothing to lose, right? Keep this in mind as we continue.

Friday, November 13, 2009

"And this year's ass-clown of the year award goes to..."

Now, usually I try to refrain from criticizing other writers’ work – nobody is perfect and we all have misfires – but I stumbled across something this morning I just couldn’t keep quiet about.

Chris Surette, a columnist for The Mirror - Fairfield University’s student newspaper - has been making headlines around the blogoshphere because the reaction this column is garnering has placed the school in some hot water.

If you haven’t read the column in question, I would strongly urge you to do so before continuing to read this post. I’ll wait….

Done? Good.

Surette’s failed attempt at a humor column is the biggest, most offensive pile of dog shit I have ever read.

I am disgusted. And not so much with the subject matter – though I think Chris’s readers get a pretty clear picture of his opinions regarding the fairer sex in the piece – but more-so with the execution of the column itself.

Look, I’m not a great writer, and I don’t claim to be – but I like to think I’m at least decent at what I do. I also happen to be a recently graduated journalism major that had a fairly well read weekly humor column in my own student newspaper for three semesters, so I like to think I know my way around humor writing a bit (though some of you will surely disagree).

The subject matter Chris has chosen to expound upon is overdone and cliché in college humor writing. Which is fine!

Half of my material throughout my career in opinion writing has been overdone and cliché. However, if you’re going to dedicate a column to an overdone and cliché topic, the redeeming value for your audience has to be either a fresh take on the subject matter, and/or SOME ACTUAL HUMOR!!!

Surette’s piece fails to accomplish either.

Its offensive, douchebag-ey (that’s right, douchebag-ey), frat boy tone and horrendous grammar and sentence structure negate any potential for humor throughout the column. As for fresh takes, the closest this disjointed, rambling, pathetic excuse for writing comes to any type of deep reflection is, “There is nothing worse than the awkward wake up next to a girl, who is not as hot as you thought she was when you were 12 deep the night before.”

And why the fuck is there a comma after “girl”? Take some grammar lessons moron. Not to mention that the structure of that particular sentence makes it slow-paced and confusing, which will completely turn off any audience member still reading.

Instead, try, “There is nothing more awkward than waking up next to a girl who was much hotter when you were 12 deep last night.” Or just don’t write that sentence at all and come up with an ORIGINAL THOUGHT. Now there’s a novelty, an original thought!!!

But now I’m just nitpicking.

My real problem is this: Chris Surette is just another dumbass, Neanderthal male in a Red Sox hat trying to be something he’s not – a writer.

Since Bill Simmons' popularity has grown (sorry Sports Guy, I’m blaming you for this one), any illiterate idiot from the Boston area who follows sports thinks they can be the next Bill Simmons.

The problem is, the majority of them are just like this kid - hacks with no writing talent whatsoever who try much too hard to be funny and/or controversial. This absolutely infuriates anyone who actually possesses some level of talent.

Why? Because with all these Simmons-wannabes flooding the internet with their filth, most people tend to immediately dismiss anyone attempting to write a sports/humor column, blog, or whatever, as a writer of the same ilk. That leaves the rest of us who are trying to break into an already oversaturated market with fewer readers and far less credibility.

So thanks, Chris, for taking a complex art form that is dear to me and pooping all over it with your feeble attempt at a humor column that was no doubt solely for the benefit of you and “your boys”.

At least I can take solace in one fact, Chris – that after the women of Fairfield read that “though many may consider you a slut after witnessing your glorious Walk of Shame, just realize that you have given this lucky guy a story he can share with others at the Grape for the rest of the year,” – I’m fairly confident that “lucky guy” isn’t going to be you anytime soon.

- Seacrest out.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Been a long time, Shouldn't have left you....

Without a dope beat to step to... Step to, Ste, ste, Step to.

Or at least that's what I'm feeling like.

It's been far too long since I last posted, and I apologize. I feel like @sportsguy33, with his utter refusal to write columns anymore. That's right Simmons, I'm callin' you out.

But anyway, It's been months since my last post, so I figured I would at least post this to tell you all that, just like the little Asian Windows girl says, More Happy is Coming.

I'm hopefully going to be getting back into a routine of posting 3-5 times each week, starting today. So keep your eyes tuned to this space, cause I've got lots of rants stored up on topics ranging from the NFL to competitive eating, and check back later today for some possible live-blogging during the Pats game.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

A new theory from Cunn...

Since the Dawn of Time, man has been searching for the answers to the great mysteries of the universe.

Countless philosophers, thinkers, sages and priests have pondered the answers to these pivotal questions regarding human existence: Why are we here? Is there a God? What lies beyond our earthly plane?

Well, today, one of those questions has finally been answered, by none other than the greatest thinker of our time – the man who fought back at establishment by stealing sandwiches from the cafeteria at a Massachusetts State University – my good friend Cunn.

The sheer genius of this humble modern philosopher has never shone as brightly as it does in the below paragraphs, which he emailed me just last night. In these lines Cunn concisely tackles one of these great questions that has plagued mankind for centuries: Why do hot chicks date complete asswipes?

So without further ado, I give you in all his unfiltered glory, guest contributor to The Boston Lager, The man, The myth, The legend… The Cunnisher.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The D-Bag Dilemma

By Cunn

This may be the most important email I ever write to you.

I have a theory that challenges one of man's biggest mysteries....The girl dating the D-bag.

“…In humans, shyness (also called diffidence) is a social psychology term used to describe the feeling of apprehension, lack of confidence, or awkwardness experienced when a person is in proximity to, approaching, or being approached by other people, especially in new situations or with unfamiliar people…” (Wikipedia).

The phenomenon that is the D-bag that always gets the hot girl has long plagued and frustrated the regular "good" guy.

This mystery is typically expressed in the question "why do girls love to date assholes?"

We have all been there; you fall for that cute girl and you get friendly, but this asshole comes in effortlessly and gets her. While going out with her, he continuously treats her like shit, but she will not leave.

I believe I have figured out why this is so.

First, the Players:

John: The good guy, who does all the things a girl thinks are "sweet".

Giada: The girl of your dreams who you would do anything to be with; also a chef on the food network with an incredible rack....of ribs.

Roger: Simply described as the D-bag. The guy who breathes arrogance and shits ego. Public Enemy #1.

Now, lets breakdown each person a little more.

John of course is the shy one, who means nothing but good things for Giada. He does the little things that makes her say things like, "I don't know how you don't have a girlfriend," even though she is single (c*nt).

The small surprises, the occasional flowers, and the great relationship with her friends and possibly family – John is the guy that belongs with her, but he isn’t with her.

Giada is a little more complicated. To understand why, you have to look at her past.

A young teen Giada is where everything evolves from. Thanks to the sex driven society that the media has created, Giada feels the need to be, look, and feel sexy. Due to the immaturity of the teen years, Giada cannot feel like she is ever on the highest level of beauty. John thinks she is, but is so afraid to say the wrong thing and screw things up, so he never really tells her how attracted he is to her (flirting). Giada is so desperate to feel sexy that she cannot confide in John because he cannot tell her what she strives to hear.

Enter the D-bag.

Roger, being fearless due to his lack of respect for females in general, has no problem telling Giada she is hot and that he would definitely hook up with her. It now begins.

Giada, though not necessarily physically attracted to Roger, feels that she should be with him because he reinforces what she believes she should be. He reinforces those magazines that tell her what a guy is "really" thinking when he looks at a girl.

Meanwhile, John sits back wondering what he did wrong and what Roger did right to bring this situation about.

This is a happening that is nearly unstoppable; a force of nature, if you will. Giada is now suffering from Stage 5 Douchitis.* (see full definition below)

There are good things and bad things that come with Douchitis. Unfortunately there is no cure and no matter what D-bag Roger does, Giada will always forgive him.

Also, this common disease has 5 stages, which decline in severity from ages 17-21. The girl will seek Roger-like guys until about the age of 21, sometimes 22, because that’s all she has known.

By 21 or 22 the girl has matured and looked back on the guys she has dated and begun to wonder why she ever dated them. This is also an age where the female wants to have a serious relationship so she can get married in her mid 20's, which is the typical age for such a life event.

By this time, John has gained confidence because Giada-like girls have begun to like him. His shyness goes away and confidence comes to the surface.

This now leaves Roger banging a 200-pound white chick who thinks she's black in his pimped out 1990 Honda Accord at Hampton Beach.

So, nice guys finish last? I disagree.

They do for a period of time, but more times then not they at least have the opportunity to prevail in the end.

There may not have been a better theory on this subject that has come before this. I may have uncovered the answer to a mystery that has been mind-boggling to Johns for decades.

*Stage 5 Douchitis is a disease that effects the functioning of a female’s brain. She begins to find trashy, rude, egotistical guys attractive because they tell her she is hot and want to bang her.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Big Trouble for Big Ben

So, I've decided that the best possible thing that could happen to this impending Ben Rape-lisberger trial would be to have Al Michaels and John Madden do full color commentary for the duration of the proceedings, and to have it be broadcast live on CourtTV.

Can you imagine this exchange:

AL: Ooouch. I think that was a bad decision by the quarterback there John, would you agree?

JOHN: You know, he really forced it in there that time, and 99% of the time you try to force it in, it just doesn't work out for ya.

AL: Just a bad situation for everyone involved there.

JOHN: It's like, first she's coming up to his room to fix the TV, he see's her coming, and then ... BOOM, 15 to life.

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Here’s an interesting tidbit…

If you were to take an inventory of NBA players who are still active from both the 2000 and 2002 All-Star Game rosters, you’d come up with a list that looked like this:

PGs: Jason Kidd, Steve Nash, Baron Davis
SGs: Ray Allen, Kobe Bryant
SFs: Peja Stojakovic, Tracy McGrady, Wally Szczerbiak, Paul Peirce, Vince Carter, Michael Finley, Jerry Stackhouse, Grant Hill
PFs: Rasheed Wallace, Kevin Garnett, Dirk Nowitzki, Elton Brand, Jermaine O’Neal
Cs: Tim Duncan, Shaq

Now, if you take that list and whittle it down even further so it consists of only those players who started over 50 games last season, you get a list that looks like this:

PGs: Jason Kidd, Steve Nash, Baron Davis
SGs: Ray Allen, Kobe Bryant
SFs: Peja Stojakovic, Paul Peirce, Vince Carter, Michael Finley, Grant Hill
PFs: Rasheed Wallace, Kevin Garnett, Dirk Nowitzki
Cs: Tim Duncan, Shaq

Now, you might be asking yourself, “Why do I care?” (though more likely you’re still wondering how Wally Szczerbiak ever made an All-Star team).

Or maybe you’re waiting for me to get to some type of point in all this meaningless rambling. Well, here it is:

Of those 15 men on that second list, as many as five (that’s 33.3% of the 2000 and 2002 All-Stars still starting in the NBA) could be playing significant minutes for the Boston Celtics in the 2009-2010 NBA season.

I’ll repeat that to let it sink in.

Five of the 15 players still starting NBA games from the 2000 and 2002 All-Star Team rosters could be suiting up in Celtics Green in the 2009-2010 season. Garnett, Peirce, Allen, Wallace, and now potentially Grant Hill.

To put that into perspective, consider this:

Assuming the Celtics do sign Hill, let Big Baby go elsewhere and head into the season with a 12-man roster of the Big Three, Rondo, Perk, Sheed, Hill, Scal, Eddie House, Tony Allen, Bill Walker and J.R. Giddens, then that average age on their roster would be 29.5 years of age.

I’m gonna round that up to 30, and then remind you that the Celts will likely pursue a veteran PG to back up Rondo after signing Hill, which will drive that age up even further.

In fact, just for fun, let’s say the Celts sign free agent guard Andre Miller (33) to back up Rondo. That pushes Giddens (24) off the 12 man roster and pushes the average age up to 30.25 years of age.

For comparison, the average age of an NBA player at the start of the 2007-2008 season (which was the most recent data I could find), was 26.89 years old. Furthermore, at the start of the 2008-2009 season the oldest team in the league was the San Antonio Spurs, sporting an average age of 29.96 years old (according to RPIratings.com).

What am I building up to here, you ask? Well, it’s this: If you’re an NBA GM, is building the oldest team in the NBA something you really want to have listed on your resume?

I completely understand Danny wanting to win another championship within the “two-year window” we’ve all heard so much about lately, but is it worth potentially sacrificing the following 10-years for the next two?

Don’t misunderstand me. I don’t really have a problem with any of the moves Danny has made so far this offseason, nor do I have any issue with the Celts pursuing Hill. I just get nervous when I see a team stockpiling aging talent (like the Lakers did in ’03-’04), because what generally happens is all that talent leaves over the course of two seasons and leaves a team stuck in “Rebuilding Hell”.

The Lakers had the luxury of being able to rely on a still relatively young superstar (Kobe) after that ’03-’04 season to help speed the ascent out of “Rebuilding Hell”, but with no such player on the Celtics current roster, a similar exodus of aging stars could leave the team reeling for six, seven, maybe even eight seasons.

Look, I’m not suggesting that Danny should have done (or could be doing) anything differently, I think he’s been making the right moves given the circumstances.

I’m just concerned that once we watch the Big Three, Sheed, Eddie House and now potentially Grant Hill leave one by one over the course of the next three seasons, Celtics fans are going to be left staring at a core of Rondo, Perk, a half decent free agent pickup (say a Kevin Durant or Carmelo Anthony) and a still developing Bill Walker, asking ourselves what the hell happened.

Here’s to hoping I’m wrong.

Tuesday, June 30, 2009

Off to the races....

So I attended my first ever NASCAR race this weekend – an event which doubled as the first time I’ve ever watched more than one lap of any auto race… ever.

My buddy Murph, an in-the-flesh NASCAR fan, had four tickets to the Lenox Industrial Tools 301 at the New Hampshire Motor Speedway in Loudon, and he asked me and two other friends – Joe and Canavan – to go to the race with him.

I figured that I might as well see what this whole NASCAR thing was all about, so I happily accepted.

Not knowing exactly what to expect, but prepared for anything, I set out from my house at 7 a.m. Sunday morning wearing a tank-top and my Jim Beam Racing hat (a freebie with a bottle of Beam about a year ago that I was hoping would prevent me from standing out like a sore thumb as a non-racing fan who knows nothing about the sport). What follows is a running retro-diary of my day, the accuracy of which ranges from exact to very loose interpretation, with the variable being the number of beers consumed.

Due to the massive size of this diary, I'm going to post it in two parts over the next two days. So without further adu, here's Bill's NASCAR Diary, Part I:

7:20 AM:
The tank-top/Beam racing hat are already doing the trick. I just stopped to gas up and grab some ice for the coolers on the way to Murph’s house, and the woman behind the counter at Shell took one look at me and asked, “You headed up to the race today?”

Score 1 for Bill.

7:45 AM:
“They’re gonna love you!!”

That’s Murph’s reaction upon seeing my get-up as I arrive at his house.

Murph seems to be in good spirits and ready to roll; good sign for the start of the morning. Joe, on the other hand, looks like hell and just informed me that “(He) had a green butt purge,” this morning. Given that we have 90 beers in the trunk for just four people, I have a feeling that Joe’s green morning “butt purge” won’t be his last.

8:10 AM:
Canavan finally arrives at Murph’s house, bringing with him the “grill” that we’ll be using to tailgate all day. It’s not quite what was promised when he told us he had a grill – the “grill” part is there, but we weren’t expecting the added bonuses of rust and cobwebs on our burgers.

After some mild complaining about Canavan’s “grill”, we load up my ’98 Nissan Altima and head out – Loudon, here we come.

8:22 AM:
We spot our first fellow race fans of the day as we’re waiting to take a left in traffic. A huge pickup truck with a giant American flag hanging out the back window – viciously flapping over the truck bed – rolls by as Murph and Joe simultaneously say, “That guy’s definitely going to NASCAR.”

What have I gotten myself into?

9:07 AM:
We’re getting closer to Loudon, and the number of both teeth and minorities in the cars surrounding us is dwindling. Fast.

Murph announces that he’s getting “hot flashes” from the morning coffee, as Joe counters with, “Hot flashes, what about me, I had a green butt purge this morning.” I have a feeling we’ll be hearing about this non-stop throughout the day.

9:11 AM:
Canavan seriously contemplates getting out and walking next to the car (crawling along in race traffic at this point) to have a cigarette.

9:37 AM:
First beer of the morning is officially cracked.

After sitting in a little more race traffic, parking, and unloading the car, the boys are ready to rock. (I do feel it’s worth noting that the first person we see in the parking lot has cut-off sleeves and a two-foot long rat tail.)

Joe tunes in the local classic rock station on the radio and the first round of beers are down within five minutes.

Four down, 86 to go.

10:08 AM:
Joe announces that Murph is the “Pace Car” after Murph finishes beer number four while the rest of us are only about a quarter of the way through. When I finish mine and tell Joe to drink up and crack another, he cites the “green butt purge” for the 27th time this morning as the reason for his “slow” (3 and ½ beers in 31 minutes) start.

Murph tells Canavan to fire the up the “grill”. It’s time for some breakfast.

10:09 AM:
We realize we did not bring a spatula. Murph sends Joe on a mission to seek out good-hearted tailgaters who will let us borrow theirs. The mission is successful.

We’ve been talking to a few of the surrounding groups since getting here, and I have to admit that “the NASCAR lifestyle,” as Murph calls it, is pretty damn fun. Picture tailgating before a football game, except instead of being in a parking lot, you’re on grass. And there are way more people, and miraculously enough port-o-potties to accommodate the crowd. And there are fewer d-bags. The NASCAR fans might be a little (or a lot) rough around the edges, but you’d be hard pressed to find a friendlier bunch.

10:36 AM:
Breakfast is served!! Burgers and potato chips washed down with a healthy amount of Miller Lite.

The weather’s not bad and the rain seems to be holding off, we’re all having a good time and drinking at an incredible pace.

Canavan is talking sports with Brian, who is parked next to us with his dad. They drove up from Connecticut for the race; leaving their house at 5 AM. Brian explains that he didn’t get in from “partying bra” the night before “until like 3 AM”. Murph says he wishes Brian had stayed partying, though Brian grew on us later.

11:23 AM:
Since we got here this morning we’ve been having a running commentary on the type of female who attends NASCAR. Joe has an ingenious system for rating these women.

Instead of the traditional 1-10 rating system, Joe describes the quality of women at NASCAR by how many beers deep he would have to be before sleeping with them. In this system then, a 0 is the highest possible rating, while the ceiling for low ratings stretches to infinity.

Based on our observations, the average rating at this particular race is roughly 235, though that number is skewed by the several women who we rated as “infinities”.

I bring this up here because we have just handed out our second single-digit rating of the day. However, it has been called into question as we wonder whether rating someone an 8 while being nine beers deep actually means that person is a 17.

This is an important question, and it needs answering.

11:34 AM:
There is a large gap in the row of parked cars across from us because the friendly female parking attendant keeps waving cars past when they try to park there. Murph starts talking to her, and she explains that she’s waving these cars past because we’d have to get up and move for a second to allow them to back in, and she doesn’t want us to have to move.

This would not happen anywhere else on earth. And though we’re thankful for her thoughtfulness, we have a problem: we want people to drink with!

So, every time we see a car driving past full of passengers we deem to be “fun people”, we’re screaming at them to park there and trying to back them in without the parking attendant, who keeps coming up and waving them out, seeing.


12:00 PM:
Thirty-plus beers down and Murph announces that it’s time to make picks for the $20 pool. Each of us will pick three drivers, and whoever has the highest finisher will win. I can see right off that bat that this will be a problem for me.

Joe gets the first pick and takes Kyle Busch. I take Jimmie Johnson with pick #2, who I just found out was a NASCAR driver about an hour ago. After Canavan picks Tony Stewart I’m down to two more drivers that I know. Joe takes one of them (Jeff Gordon) and I take the remaining one (Dale Jr.) with my second pick and end up with some scrub for my final pick.

(More to come… check back for Part II of the diary, including the actual Race and “Joe’s big day out” tomorrow)

Friday, June 26, 2009

Draft Night

So tired. All I got is that the winners were the pacers, rockets, t-wolves and grizz. And that Dejaun Bair fell way to far.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

A-Rond the World in 80 Days…

Excuse the terrible tagline for this post, but I’m running out of creative ways to introduce rants dealing with Rajon Rondo and the maelstrom of trade rumors surrounding the 23-year-old point guard.

It seems like it’s been the same old song and dance everyday for the past week now: another morning, another Rondo trade rumor. It’s becoming as much a part of my a.m. routine as showering and an XL coffee with skim milk and two sugars from Dunkin’ Donuts.

Today’s offering: Rondo and Brian Scalabrine to Memphis for Mike Conley and Rudy Gay. I’m calling it “The Big Gay Trade.”

Now, I’m still of the opinion that Rondo isn’t actually going anywhere, and that Danny Ainge is just playing head games with the young star by involving him in these ridiculous rumors (see yesterday’s “The Rondo Dilemma” for a full explanation). But, this morning’s rumor makes that theory a much harder to buy into, as The Big Gay Trade is the most plausible one yet in terms of actually coming to fruition.

There are a couple reasons The Big Gay Trade holds that distinction, one of the most prominent being that Memphis, unlike… say…Detroit, doesn’t have to worry about the possible consequences of making the Celtics better through a trade. The only place Memphis would be seeing the Celtics (that matters) is in the NBA Finals. Any Eastern Conference contender, however, will have a handful of meaningful regular season games against the C’s and then have to get through them in order to make the Finals, so any trade making the C’s better is one they want to avoid making.

The second reason that this trade is the most plausible of the Rondo rumors is that it makes financial sense for both teams, unlike the vague reports of a trade that would have sent Rondo and Ray Allen to Phoenix for Leandro Barbosa and Amare Stoudemire. That trade would have resulted in the Celtics having roughly $23 million tied up in Barbosa and Amare through the summer of 2011, rather than have only $21 million tied up in Rondo and Ray that would come off the books just in time for (cue movie phone voice) “The Summer of 2010!!!”

(On a side note, I absolutely pull the trigger on this deal if I’m Steve Kerr. You get a talented young guard in Rondo who can step up and replace Nash when he either A) retires or B) bolts for a contender in free agency, and you get a veteran wing who can help you make a championship run this season and has $20 million expiring contract.)

(You sign a veteran Big Man to a one or two year deal to replace Amare and you got a team. You also keep another valuable trading chip in Big Diesel’s expiring contract that you can swap to get some help mid-season if the Big Fella’s not performing. Amare’s unhappy and leaving anway, and Barbosa is a player who became overrated and overpaid because he played in Mike D’Antoni’s SSOL offense. This deal is a good one for the Suns.)

And finally, The Big Gay Trade makes perfect sense for Memphis.

If you’re Memphis you’ve got this dilemma of having to pick at the #2 spot in the draft. You have to chose between two needs; upgrading your backcourt with Ricky Rubio (who has tremendous potential but is still a large gamble) or upgrading your frontcourt (a dire need for the Griz) with Hasheem Thatbeet.

As I’ve discussed here before, if you have to choose between franchise Big Man or a franchise guard, you gotta go with Big Man. Right? But, if Memphis can improve at PG and get a veteran SG to compliment O.J. Mayo, it could give them one of the best backcourts in the league.

This trade allows the Griz to do both things. Rondo was one-half a backcourt that won an NBA championship, and Scal can actually contribute on a team that needs some serious frontcourt help and also lacks any type of depth at SF – the #2 guy on the depth chart at the 3 is Quinton Ross (3.9 ppg 1.9 rbs and 0.9 asts; avg. 17 mpg).

And if you have Rondo (a proven thing) nobody questions the decision to pass on Rubio and grab Thabeet, who can help immediately in a frontcourt made up primarily of Darrell Arthur (5.6, 4.6, 0.6), Marc Gasol (11.9, 7.4, 1.7) and Darko Milicic (5.5, 4.3, 0.6).

On the Celtics side of the deal, you get back a talented young PG (definitely a downgrade from Rondo but a better pick up than Rodney Stuckey) who still has three seasons left on his rookie contract, and a great energy guy who can come off the bench and give you solid minutes at either the 2 or 3, giving Paul or Ray a rest.

And Rudy Gay is making the same amount as Scalabrine!!! Would you rather pay Scalabrine $3.2 million next season and cut him during the summer of 2010 or pay Rudy Gay $3.2 and $4.4 million over the next two seasons, then if he plays well enough sign him to a mid-range deal when Paul retires?

Now, I still don’t think this trade happens, but my point is this: four rumors in six days involving Rondo is making it more and more difficult to believe that there’s not something going on here that we don’t know about. Especially now that one of these rumors finally makes sense.

Maybe Danny sees something the rest of us don’t. Maybe he really is shopping Rondo. Whatever it is that’s going on here, I just hope he knows what he’s doing.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

The Rondo Dilemma

By now I’m sure everyone has heard the latest trade rumor involving the Celtics’ young floor general, the one that would send him and Ray Allen to Detroit for Rip Hamilton, Tayshaun Prince and (ironically for those who read my post yesterday) Rodney Stuckey.

First off, Danny has been taking some heat for this one on the fan-pages and forums, even though the trade offer was (reportedly) immediately declined by Detroit. When you actually look at the deal, though, it’s not a bad trade. In fact, I would go as far as to say that I’d have probably have been fine with it if it had gone through.

Think about it.

By adding Rip and Tayshaun we automatically improve our defense and finally find a suitable and capable player who can come off the bench and give Peirce a rest (in Tayshaun).

Rip is Rip, and swapping him for Ray basically gives you a younger version of the same type of player (Ray will be 34 next month, Rip is 31). Don’t believe me; check their stats from last season. Ray averaged 18.2 pts, 3.5 rebs and 2.8 asts per game. Rip averaged 18.3 pts, 3.2 rebs and 4.4 asts per game.

Yeah, yeah, I know Ray shot 48% from the field and 40% from beyond the arc while Rip shot 44% and 36%, but Rip’s shooting percentages are still solid. He was seldom left alone on the offensive end and oft doubled and still managed to hit those marks. And, don’t think those percentages wouldn’t improve with the increased amount of open looks that are a product of playing on a team with Paul Peirce and Kevin Garnett.

Plus, Rip is on the books for $11.6 million next year compared to Ray’s $19 million, so that has to be factored in as well.

Admittedly, Stuckey is a downgrade from Rondo. I would be in the camp of those calling it a “significant downgrade”, since I’m not too high on Stuckey and definitely don’t think he’s a “true” point guard. However, he is a talented player and he is young (23, same age as Rondo), so it’s not a total loss. You sign a decent veteran PG to back him up and the Celts would have a depth chart that looks like this:

PG: Stuckey/vet
SG: Rip/Eddie House
SF: Peirce/Prince/Brian Scalabrine
PF: KG/(Leon Powe or Glen Davis, since it’s not likely you’re signing both)
C: Pekins/free agent pickup (Marcin Gortat anyone???)

That’s a competitive team, and could be for the next 3-4 seasons.

None of that really matter’s though, because this trade was never happening. The deal was offered to Detroit - that seems like it’s an undeniable fact here given the extent of the media reports. There’s no way Joe Dumars ever pulls the trigger on it though, for reasons which I’ll get into a little later.

This brings me to my larger point: the question that is rolling around in my head right now.

Is Danny just playing head games with Rondo by involving him in these ridiculous trade proposals?

Has anyone else noticed that most of these “rumored” deals involving Rondo are deals that would be completely unrealistic for at least one of the teams involved?

In this most recent instance, there’s no way Detroit accepts the offer for two reasons, 1) they’re giving up their three best players currently under contract (since Sheed hasn’t signed yet), and 2) There’s no way Detroit does a trade that makes Boston better. Neither does Cleveland or Orlando for the same obvious reason.

Danny has to know that.

And if he does, is he just trying to show Rondo (with his reported ego issues) that he’s expendable? Maybe light a fire under the young PG, challenging him to prove that he’s A) not expendable, and B) a great team chemistry guy and a good soldier (to disprove all the media buzz about his stubbornness that is cited as a potential reason for shopping him every time a new rumor surfaces)?

Danny’s smart. Don’t underestimate him.

The rumor that Ray and Rondo were going to Phoenix for Amare and Nash was totally unrealistic due to finances. Everyone knows that Minny has no intent of letting Big Al go anywhere, nor should they as he is a franchise “Big” who can man the helm of a contender for years to come if the right players are surrounding him. And finally, the Pu Pu Platter that was rumored for Ray and Rondo to Washington was terrible and would have made no sense for the Celts.

So why then would Danny be discussing these ridiculous deals involving his young star point guard, and then publicly deny them like they’re the third Manning brother to boot?

According to the Celts Twitter account, he pulled the same act again this morning in his pre-draft press conference.

“DA: "I'm not sure why his is popping up, but we love Rajon. It doesn't seem like you have to have any source any more (to report rumors).",” one Tweet reads, in what appears to be a response to a question about why Rondo’s name keeps popping up in trade rumors.

“DA: "I've heard speculation we're dissatisfied with him; we're gonna trade him because he was late for a playoff game? That's not true.",” the next Tweet reads.

And Danny’s response to all the other rumors involving Rondo has always been the same: deny, deny deny. And make sure to reiterate how much he loves Rondo.

Think about it. Rajon’s a young guy coming off his best season. His rookie contact is up next year. He already has an ego and thinks of himself highly (if all reports are to be believed). So what do you do to motivate him as a GM? You throw his name into some faux trade rumors to show him that he’s expendable – that he can be replaced.

At the same time, you come out and praise him publicly, denying the rumors in order to make sure he still knows you like him and respect his skills. This keeps him happy enough with you and the team to want to stay, and at the same time motivated enough to want to prove his worth, even though he spent the last two seasons proving he’s one of the best in the league at his position.

Genius. And genius seems to be what Danny Ainge does best.

Monday, June 22, 2009

And now an answer to a completely irrelevant question due to the implausibility of its circumstances.

Celticsblog.com (a great site for those of you who haven’t already found it) recently had a poll up that posed the following question:

“Would you accept a deal that would send Rondo and Ray Allen to Phoenix for Amare Stoudemire and Leandro Barbosa if the Celtics could then turn Amare into Al Jefferson and Minnesota's high draft pick?”

Now, as stated in the heading for this post, the question is moot because this scenario is almost completely unrealistic. I haven’t checked the salaries out yet, but it may not even be financially possible under the league’s trade rules (in any trade the total value of what teams A and B are receiving must be within 125% + $100,000 of each other). I think Amare’s contract would prevent this deal from hitting that mark, but again, that’s just off the top of my head and I would need to double check the figures.

Regardless, the question brings up an interesting debate: Would you be willing to sacrifice a young guard with the potential to be a top-5 player at his position for the next decade and an aging veteran for a quality big man?

It’s an intriguing prospect. On one hand, a top-notch floor general, especially one with the athleticism Rondo possesses, is hard to come by in today’s NBA. When the likes of Mo Williams, Rodney Stuckey, and Andre Miller are starting PGs on playoff teams, it’s definitely a sign that elite PGs are few and far between.

And a player with Allen’s shooting abilities and undeniable confidence in clutch situations will always be a great value to any team with a legitimate chance to go deep in the playoffs.

Clearly, to give up both players in one deal would be to give up quite a bit.

On the other hand, there’s an argument that has been hashed over many times throughout the years: that the key to winning a championship is having a great big man.

With KG entering what are presumably his last 2-3 seasons in the NBA and no heir-apparent on the C’s current roster, would sacrificing Rondo and Ray for a quality big, if we can get one, be the best move for the team?

Don’t get me wrong here; I love Ray, and I love Rondo even more.

I own a "You got Rondo'd" t-shirt. I was one of his earliest supporters and am one of the first to defend him when people bring up some of his faults (and he definitely has them). I have to admit that when it comes right down to it, he’s my favorite Celtic on the roster right now and is probably my favorite point guard in the NBA (and would be regardless of where he played).

However, when you examine the evidence from 60-plus seasons of NBA basketball, it slowly becomes apparent that great guards (1 or 2) - regardless of how spectacular they are - cannot win championships without a great big man.

Great big men, on the flipside, have proven that they can win championships while playing alongside strictly average guards.

Looking back at all the "great" guards in history who have actually won a championship, they all did it with great big men at their side:

Kobe had Gasol and Shaq (and Odom?). Ray Allen (difficult not to mention him here now) had KG when he finally won. MJ had Rodman, Grant and Salley.

Clyde the Glyde didn't win until he had Hakeem the Dream (but The Dream won the year before with average guards at best).

Isiah only won with Lambier, Rodman and Salley. Magic had Kareem and Rambis. "Tiny" Archibald only won when he finally had the Celts big men in '81. Dr. J had Moses. Cousy had Russell.

But, there are a host great "Big Men" who have won it on their own:

Hakeem in '94 (as previously mentioned); Tim Duncan (and D-rob) in '98; The Bird era Celtics (not to the extent of any other team on this list since they had good to very good gaurds, but still, not "great gaurds"); Willis in '70 and '73; and Kareem in '71.

And finally, when you look at the list of great guards that a championship ring eluded, the common thread amongst them is that few ever got to play with a great big man.

Steve Nash(unless you consider Amare “great”). Jason Kidd (again, unless you consider an aging Dirk “great”). Reggie Miller. Gary Payton (Lakers season doesn’t count due to Kobe’s sabotage of that team, otherwise the glove would be on my first list of great guards who only won with great big men at their sides).

Doc Rivers and Spudd Webb (and Dominique for that matter, while I'm listing great Hawks players who never played with a decent big man). George Gervin. Pistol Pete.... and the list goes on.

So based on history, you’ve got to sacrifice a quality guard for a big man like Jefferson if given the chance. Right?

The question is, will the Celtics get the chance, and if so, will Mr. Ainge actually pull the trigger?

I say not this offseason. The right deal just isn’t out there. Like I said, you do the Big Al deal if it was actually realistic, but it’s not, and neither is any scenario that would give us Amare, Bosh, or any other quality big man for the 2009-2010 season.

And why give up Rondo when you might be able to keep him and still sign that big man via free agency next summer? Danny has a two-year window to find KG’s replacement here, so there’s no need to rush it and do something you might regret 5-years down the road.

So let’s stop asking the irrelevant questions about “would you trade Rondo for…” and start focusing on the biggest issue facing the team next season that, amazingly, still no one is talking about.

What is wrong with KG’s knees and can he recover? If this were an aging pitcher with elbow issues it would be all the Boston sports media talked about.

Kind of a roundabout way to make my point, but hopefully you enjoyed the ride.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Big Things A-Comin'

With the NBA draft fast approaching, I haven’t been able to control my urges to spend hours of valuable work-time researching potential moves for the Celtics.

After exploring scores of trade ideas, free agent signings and potential draft picks – some plausible, others not so much – I have settled on one of the most unlikely scenarios in the history of sport and am now fully endorsing the following plan of action, which I am calling (for multiple reasons) “Operation Dumbo Drop”.

Consider this:

What if Danny Ainge could convince Kevin McHale to give us back the first round pick we sent to Minnesota in the KG trade for Tony Allen and some cash? (Stop laughing. This is Kevin McHale we’re talking about. He’s, A) One of the most inept GM’s in the NBA next to Chris Wallace, and B) Not at all afraid to help his former team out a bit, as evidenced during the Summer of 2007).

Kevin’s got picks coming out the wazzu this year (the ‘Wolves have three picks in the first round; 6th, 20th and 28th ) and will likely not have the roster space to sign all those rookies. So why wouldn’t he want to turn one of his picks (which will be an untested question-mark looking for a 3-4 year deal) into a one-year rental of a proven defender who also happens to have… (That’s right Johnny!!! Tell him what he’s won!!!)… an expiring contract in the most anticipated free-agent market in NBA History, (cue movie-phone guy voice) “The Summer of 2010!!”?

So now with Kevin’s 20th or 28th pick, Danny takes Tyler Hansboro (a steal that late who I'm convinced might even slip to the early second round).

With Bill Walker (who showed flashes of greatness in his limited PT last season and who I feel could mature quite quickly if given a larger role) and Hansboro, you get two young, energetic swingmen who can drive to the basket and have decent developing mid-range jumpers (not to mention that Hansboro could potentially develop a passable enough 3-point stroke - say high-20s to low 30s 3pt percentage - to be a threat to score from anywhere on the floor).

Those two, along with Starbury (who you then resign at a discount rate since his stock is low and he wants to stay in Boston and try to win a ring) could provide enough minutes to rest Ray and Paul to keep them fresh for another long championship run.

Now here’s where it gets good…..

Maybe - and this is a stretch (as if the rest of this plan isn’t?) - but maybe due to his above average play in the playoffs and McHale's fetish for White Goofy Power Forwards (the T-wolves are currently carrying an all-star list of WGPFs - Mark Madsen, Brain Cardinal and Kevin Love), maybe Kevin gives Danny the pick for Tony Allen and (this gives me great pleasure to say, even though I've grown to love him as an individual) "Brian Scalabrine's Expiring Contract".
Stop.

Think about it. And stop asking what I’m on.

This move would give Kevin an additional $5.7 million (Allen and Scal’s combined salaries) coming off the books for “The Summer of 2010” to go after somebody for Big Al to play with, and it would give the Celtics roughly $5.7 million they could use to lockup Big Baby and resign Eddie House.

(NOTE: I’m not sure where the rest of this money is coming from, because $5.7 mil is not enough to resign both Eddie and Baby. Just roll with it though. Sam Cassell, Patrick O’Bryant and Leon Powe’s salaries coming off the books should help; Danny will find a way to make the rest work.)

So, at this point Doc would have an eight-man rotation of Rondo, Ray, Paul, KG, Perk, House, Starbury, and Baby, with Hansboro and Bill Walker coming off the bench and J.R. Giddens keeping the seats warm as an 11th man.

Use a mid-level exception to sign another veteran big (or at least a cheap role playing one) - potentially the looking to make a comeback and “in the best shape of his career” Antoine Walker, Mara-Juwan-a Howard, Marcin Gortat or Anderson Varejao - and you're set to raise Banner 18 in June of 2010, right?

(I mean, this secenario really isn't that unrealistic, right?)

(Stop staring at me like that.)

(I’m not crazy.)

Friday, June 5, 2009

Another real email chain from work....

After a morning meeting ended at 10:50 a.m.

D: (about his boss) I was almost embarrassed that whole time… I wish she didn’t speak ever.


C: Agreed. Hammered still, by the way (as if you couldn’t tell), but really was late because of f*ckin MIT.

D: I haven't even pretended to do work today…

C: Also, ... on my fourth cup of water. As long as I keep drinking it, the sober will come. Eventually.

D: Then you will feel like I do.. which is like ass

C: Fuck. Good point, maybe I should just keep this going then, where’s the nearest liquor store?

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Observations from Game 1

Today was one of the more miserable days of work in recent memory, mostly because I woke up without a voice, and without the drive to do much of anything, after attending the Celtics 95-90 loss to the Magic in Game 1 of the Eastern Conference Semi-Finals last night.

The game itself was a thriller, with the Celts rallying back from a 28-point deficit to come within three points of Dwight’s (only 16 pts, 22 reb) (Only?) (Yeah, we’ll go with that.) Magic in the closing minutes. It was such a remarkable comeback / epic collapse that it’s tough to say which team walked away the winner in this one. The Magic just took away home court advantage (in theory) and are up a game over the defending champs, but at the same time the Celtics just proved to themselves and everyone else that they are a force to be reckoned with and can overcome even the most seemingly insurmountable odds.

That said, here’s a list of observations from my Game 1 experience, in no particular order.

1) My buddy Cunn is not to be left alone while intoxicated. He accompanied me to the game last night and we met up beforehand at (the legendary) Halftime Pizza to slug back some brews and grab dinner. He, being Cunn, had taken the train into the city to meet me, and had downed a glass of Jim Beam before boarding the train and an additional apple juice bottle full of Jim on his way in. Needless to say, by the time he had downed two of Halftime’s 32-ounce, $7.50, personal pitchers of goodness, he was hammered.

Now… before I continue with this story, I feel obligated to tell you another one. Last year, I went to the Celtics season opener against the Wizards with Cunn. I was in school at the time in Vermont. Cunn was in school in Mass. It was a Friday night, and I had an exam that morning, so we agreed that I’d drive down after my exam, meet at my parent’s house, and take the train in to the city for the game.

My piece of shit car broke down on the way down from Vermont though. Luckily, it was a minor problem that I paid a mechanic extra in order to fix so I could make the game. I called Cunn up and told him I’d meet him in the city, outside the garden instead.

So, I get down there 10 minutes before tip off, have to park in the Fanuel Hall parking Garage cause there’s no parking anywhere near the Garden, sprint over to the Garden thinking, “Shit, I’m gonna miss KG’s intro,” and what do I see? Cunn standing outside the Garden, visibly sloshed, hitting on a homeless girl with dreads.

The ensuing conversation went like this:

Me: “What the fuck are you doing?”

Cunn: “A-what?”

Me: “Do you know what time it is? We’re gonna miss tip-off.”

Cunn: “I was talkin’.”

Me: “To a homeless girl! What the hell were you talking about? WHY were you talking to her?” What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Cunn: “I don’t know how I got into that situation, but I couldn’t get out.”

And there you have it.

Last night, though, the legend of Cunn grew tenfold. After I finished my last beers at Halftime, Cunn was struggling with the final sips of his. I needed some wings before the game, so in the interest of time, I decided that I would go over to 7/11 while he finished his beer and grab a Red Bull, and told him to meet me on the corner outside of Halftime in 5.

Cunn was opposed to this idea. “You can’t leave me by myself,” he said, explaining he was basically at the point where he needed a chaperone. Naturally, I told him to stop being a pussy and deal.

So I go to 7/11, get my caffeine fix, walk out, and there’s Cunn, standing on the corner with a confused look on his face, talking to some homeless guy. I could tell by the look on his face that this was a conversation he clearly wanted no part of, so I quickly walked over, tapped him on the back and said, “All right man, let’s go, we’re gonna miss the intros.”

Without saying anything Cunn turns and starts to walk away with me, but the homeless guy starts yelling something, barely intelligible, that I believe was, “Hey, man, no man, hold on man, my brother, Ha Ha, my brother.”

He comes up to Cunn, and hugs him. The homeless guy hugged Cunn in the middle of a crowd of people on Causeway Street before a Celts game. HE HUGGED HIM. WHAT THE FUCK.

Me: “Why did that guy just hug you?”

Cunn: (Petrified) “I have no idea.”

Me: “What were you even talking about?”

Cunn: “I have no fucking clue.”

Me: “How do you not know.”

Cunn: “I don’t… know”

Me: “How did you even start talking to him? How did you suddenly find yourself in that situation?”

Cunn: (Laughing like an idiot at this point) “I… don’t… know”

Me: “So you walk out of halftime, and next thing you know some homeless guy is hugging you.”

Cunn: “Yes… I told you, I can’t be left alone.”

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

The Big T(r)icket

Just a real quick scenario that popped into my head this morning....

KG is coming back at some point in these playoffs.

(Rocky intro starts playing in my head.... picture of KG doing the Paul Pierce Memorial hop out of the locker room.... the crowd starts going nuts as he triumphantly raises one finger above his head and Phil Collins' "In the Air Tonight" starts playing over the PA system.... the opposing team's players slowly hang their heads in defeat as they realize the whole injury was nothing more than an elaborate publicity stunt conceived of by David Stern, who forced the unwilling threesome of Garnett, Ainge and Rivers to play along, the dishonesty eventually conflicting with Danny Ainge's core Mormon beliefs and leading to so much stress and worrying that it caused a mild heart attack)

(This is the way my brain works)