nothing funny about this picture...at all.
Well, well, well…look’s who’s in the conference Finals. After some of the most unimpressive playoff basketball I can remember seeing in recent history, the Cavs managed to not suck nearly as bad as the Nets and are standing in front of the beast of the East once again, the Detroit Pistons. I hate the Pistons. I hate the fact that their best player has a name from the 1920’s (Chauncey Billups), I hate the fact that Rasheed Wallace has a skunk patch and that he is going to complain like he just found out that smoking weed is illegal, I hate the fact that a member of the Fab Five is now playing for them and he’s still pretty good, I hate the fact that Detroit is just as ugly, if not uglier, a city than Pittsburgh, I hate the fact that Tayshaun Prince looks like Gollum’s and Morgan Freeman’s love child, I hate the fact that Rip Hamilton looks like a Junior Varsity d-bag and has a silky smooth jumper, I hate the fact that Carlos Arroyo is Carlos Arroyo and I hate the fact that we are probably going to lose.
The parallels between Lebron James and Michael Jordan are eerily similar in this aspect, both will probably have to lose to a bunch of a-hats from Detroit before achieving any further success in the playoffs. I have no idea why I have such a fatalistic attitude with the Cavs, but it’s easy to pinpoint why with the Indians. They have a good team, a potentially really good team, but I’ve seen this show before and I liked it better when the actors had names like Albert Belle, Jim Thome, Manny Ramirez and Carlos Obed Baerga. This team is going to tantalize with good play when it really doesn’t matter and will choke when it comes to crunch time, mark my words.
I waited 5 hours in line for his autograph
Some of my best memories in regards to Cleveland sports were when I was in college and high school and going to the Jake on a warm summer’s night when it was the place to be. It was great seeing people in downtown Cleveland past 5 pm and actually enjoying themselves outside of the Flats. People actually wanted to be there and a ticket was hard to come by. Hanging around Homerun Porch with a cold beverage in your hand, BS’ing with some dude from Wickliffe that under the normal circumstances, I would have mocked mercilessly, about anything and everything Tribe related…it didn’t get any better than that. I remember the excitement of hearing a friend’s dad had a last minute meeting or obligation and those season tickets were now available. Or a cop that I am very good friends with would have us come downtown without tickets, walk around for a while, and bust the very first opposing team’s fans that were drinking outside of the stadium and give us their tickets (the same went for Browns’ games – nothing better than a yinzer spitting up his Iron City all over his Zubaz pants as he realizes he just got screwed ten ways from Tuesday and the only way out of getting arrested was to give a Browns’ fan his tickets – beautiful). Anyways, I feel like Randy Quaid in Major League II. I won’t be convinced we are going to win anything until those final seconds tick off the clock in the deciding game we are winning. Basically, I will never be convinced. The Browns on the other hand, are a different story. They can have a good draft and I’m ready to put RAC’s moobs on my head if I think it will give us a chance to go .500. Where was I going with this? Oh yeah, the Cavs are in the finals. Sweet! Here’s my prediction: Rasheed Wallace is ugly. Prediction #2: I think the Pistons will take this in 6.