Quickly, with the sound of the Gulf of Mexico at my back and much, much more to come tomorrow…
- Hats off to the Rockets. They’ll tell you there’s no glory in going down fighting, but there is.
- Hats off to the Wizards. You have what it takes, you just need this particular core to mature. And by “this core”I mean, “not Gilbert.” Next year, no words. Just action.
- This Hawks game tomorrow is transcendent. It’s beyond words. We’re all amazed by it. We can’t even believe it’s happening, much less form coherent thought about it. I, like Shoals, will be gone tomorrow. Paroxi-Wife demands a prompt return to the homefront after days of boozing and fresh shrimp. The respite is over, and the battle for normalcy in the Playoffs continues. I will say this. As a man that calls Arkansas home, as someone who grew up an hour from where Joe Johnson first lit the floor on fire in college, I could not be pulling harder for this Hawks team. But I still cannot say they will win. If I give them the measure of hope, we all know it will fail. My best chance for success to drown them before they’ve set fire, and hope that once dead, they can rise from the ashes. Basically, Joe Johnson needs to go SuperNova tomorrow. That means he needs to burn himself beyond repair. He needs to have his career game tomorrow for them to win. As in, he needs to have the one game that he’ll always be compared to and never live up to in order to win. That’s how good he has to be for them to win in Boston. He has to literally play better basketball than he has on any day, ever.
- In closing, David West makes me love basketball. I’m back from hating life after Suns. CP3’s flurry at the end was the kind of thing that burns itself into your retinas and you want to see him do it every single second of every game. The Revolution, it seems, Will Be Televised.