No, it isn't... yes, it is... no it isn't. In a Google image search for "Rudy Gay," Rudy Galindo keeps popping up... we'll just leave it at that.
Rocket fans at the Toyota Center celebrated the selection of the real Rudy Gay (at least by Christian name) then promptly booed the news he was being traded to Memphis for Shane Battier. Train was distraught immediately... and never recovered. He went home miserable, hoping that it was a mistake. I wasn't so shocked.
Train says that as of today, Rockets.com is acting as if Rudy Gay were staying in Houston. For his part, Gay has no idea. But the whole "almost had [Brandon] Roy" comment by Carroll Dawson is hurtful and pointless.
The NBA's Basketball Without Borders Asia camp in Shanghai ended this year with Kazakhstani 18-year-old forward Dmitriy Klimov (6' 6'' 198 lbs) taking the MVP; which perfectly coincides with the upcoming release of Borat the Movie for the Kazakhs have finally arrived.
So, uh, we never really got into the Ali G stuff, but we thought it was pretty funny when he'd fuck with old, pasty stiffs on his show. But now with this flick, it ain't really about subverting the status quo anymore... is it?
It's about Sascha Cohen making status--as any movie adaptation of a gimmick character from a television show must be. Borat was never about Kazakhstan; he doesn't look or sound like Kazakhstanis (who mostly appear Eurasian). Cohen has never even been there. Borat might as well be from any number of Eastern European or Central Asian countries; the shtick was funny because stuffy old white men believed it. Now, the jig is up. Cohen is making his own bid for stuffy whiteness. And it's almost a shame. Except that we never really cared... and what the fuck does Sascha have to do with basketball? Absolutely nothing.
Matt Bonner was there in Shanghai, and really, beat us to the punch with a surprisingly sensitive Borat reference.
Got 'em this big.
The 2006 NBA Finals is history. And it began with such real potential for paradigm-shifting revelations. What manifested instead can only be described as a letdown so unfulfilling it may provoke an expansive, if temporary, exodus of basketball heads simply disinterested in a continually and connivingly obvious star-driven event. This NBA is straight Hollywood. And unfortunately, the Mavs have no flair for drama, not that they shouldn't have the floor. It's just that they're more P.T. Anderson than Brett Ratner--whose Rush Hour III somewhat adequately represents the Frankenstein assembly of the Miami Heat (not that Dallas hadn't already tried it). Only Spielbergian heroism could have overcome the Vinnie Chase-level arrival of D Wade, but Dirk proved, if only for this series, that he was more Diggler than Indiana Jones. Yea, I know making a Hollywood reference to a cable show that fictionally reframes Hollywood is just... weird, really... like taking pictures of yourself taking pictures of yourself in a mirror, but give me a better current one. Actually, it's fitting.
This whole series was a bad rewrite.
Haven't been to Free Darko in a while (can you tell I was there?), but Dr. Lawyer IndianChief put it short and sweet.
Wade deserves the trophies for writing himself into the annals of urban mythology, but this triumph of the individual will over a dynamic assembly of corresponding pieces, as astonishing as that individual was, coupled with the embarassing preference the officials had for said individual, has me bored just in time for it to be all over.
And I thought, at least there's this World Cup... until watching it I discover that actually, no, FIFA has the worst officiating of any sport in the world.
And then, as if the basketball gods sensed our discontent... Isiah Thomas is the new coach of the New York Knicks. And at it's least, this Great League shall never be... uninteresting.
Well, I was wrong. Duke and Train were right. Jason Williams is a champion and Antoine Walker is not poison. I stand corrected.
Nothing has sat well with me about Miami's championship run and I haven't once thought that they deserve an NBA title. Well, maybe Wade, at least he deserves Finals MVP regardless of who wins. But as Wade verges on mythical status, the future of the NBA has become at stake... Bill Simmons at ESPN.com posits:We just spent the past two months raving about the "New And Improved" NBA -- end-to-end action, loads of points, dramatic endings, a new generation of superstars coming into their own, coaches and owners willing to think outside the box. And Dallas personified everything that was happening. The Mavericks could play small, they could play big, they could play fast, they could play slow ... talking about them almost made me feel like Rollergirl describing Dirk Diggler. Their offense revolved around a 7-foot German who created a new form of post-up offense, setting up shop at the foul line and destroying defenders in a variety of ways. They had an answer for everything. That was the best thing about the Mavs -- their unpredictability. You never knew what to expect with them.
Unfortunately, they still had to get through Miami -- an old-school, MJ Era-type team with one superstar (Wade), another All-Star (Shaq), some overpaid pieces that didn't quite fit and a famous coach. Everything about them is predictable -- one guy creates every shot in crunch time, everyone else stands around and watches him, and every once in awhile those guys get to shoot an open jumper or finish a nice dish. This recipe would be boring if it weren't for Wade, a dynamic talent and the most consistent crunch-time scorer since Jordan. But that's the problem: In between Jordan and Wade, we had to watch all the wannabes pretending to be as good as them. And they weren't. Not even close. For rest of article click this ...
Well, I've still got the Mavs in 7. Clearly, Duke and Train prefer the boring, star-driven, anti-Houston Rocket NBA. Now tell me, isn't that worse than picking the Mavs to win?
Somehow, during half-price Buds, Bud Lights and appetizers at Uno's--and during NBA Finals Game 4--I got into an argument with Duke and Train about whether or not Jerry Stackhouse was physically stronger than Dwayne Wade. The specifics of how this argument began is tedious so I won't bother--let's just say it involved gauging each team's mismatches. My understanding is that Stackhouse has been known in the latter half of his career to be a bruising, physical low post player and Wade... is not that. Stackhouse is also a grown-ass man at 32 while Wade is still relatively a kid. Everyone knows about grown-ass man strength--the kind that you can't actually see or explain, but it's there and it's puttin' your 25-year-old ass on the floor off a backscreen.
Nevertheless, the heated argument went on until we all just shook our heads, not able to fathom where the other could possibly be coming from. Then this happened...
And Duke, without pause, laughs and says, "you win."
Yao is now a spokesperson for ACAP Wildaid in an effort to promote the conservation of natural things much like former Vice-President Al Gore and his Inconvenient Truth... maybe not, but Yao's guilt trip is, nevertheless, effective.
As read from BrandWeek: In the spot, Ming literally uses his shot-blocking ability to save an elephant. We first see the elephant, then a gun being locked and loaded. Ming is shooting hoops, but turns into a superhero when he races off the court, flies through the air and knocks down the bullet before it reaches its intended target. Voiceover:
'You don't have to play ball to be a great shotblocker. When the buying stops, the killing can, too.'
We love nature--yes, even here in Brooklyn. And we love Yao. But the premise is the kind that makes children cringe with blushing, goose-pimply embarrassment. And maybe Yao's shotblocking ability a little overstated... We need this clip. We need to find it. And run it in perpetuity.
But seriously, watch An Inconvenient Truth and cut it out with all that hairspray. Buy a helmet if you wanna wear one.
There's a Reuters piece on China's quest to find the next Yao Ming. KC Jones and Dwight Howard are leading the expedition. We'll make you link it via Yao Central via Yao Mania, just to keep up the explorative spirit.
Dwighty, that publicist you have is worth every penny. Stardom in this league begins with a goodwill trip to China.
(AP Photo/Elaine Thompson)
(AP Photo/J. Pat Carter)
For my girl Dottie and her roommate from Maryland, we present our Zero Hour segment dedicated to the life and times of everyone's favorite zero... Gilbert. This week...
Gilbie got arrested in Miami for "being nosy." The police claim he used the "Do you know who I am?" line. Gilbie says he didn't... and references Anchorman for the little hipsters out there. The Shaq-less Miami PD also asked Gilbie what his street name was... yes, they asked that man in the photo who looks as gangster as my beagle if he had a gang-related alias. Ever the low-key eccentric, Gilbie doesn't raise a ruckus or even call Rev. Al. But he's selling his condo in South Beach.
"I Heart Gilbie" T's are back on. Go fuck yourself, Miami.
No, it isn't... yes, it is... no it isn't. In a Google image search for "Rudy Gay," Rudy Galindo keeps popping up... we'll just leave it at that.
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