Don’t ask about the title of this post. It just popped into my head and I thought it’d be fitting to have it way. It’s the respective Conference Finals on TV this time of year, so what better of a blog post name could be than Set up a Pick, Elbow him to the Head? Try to think of something. Please.
If you’re the San Antonio Spurs, how do you give up a 20-point lead in the second half? Especially if you’re the same San Antonio Spurs team that was down 3-2 in the Hornets series and came back to win the shananagin in seven (7) games. I’ll tell you how. It’s when you allow Mr. Kobe Bryant to score two points in the first half, take a deep breath at halftime, score — what? — 17 points less in the second half than you did in the first (a 51:34 ratio), allow the same said Mr. Kobe Bryant to score 25 points in the second, and the eventual game winner, to oust the Spurs from winning on the road in game one of the Western Conference Finals. We could be talking about the Spurs taking over home court but, instead, we’re praising the Lakers for their perseverance of not letting go of the game and staying in it.
Bravo, Lakers. Damn it, Spurs. Why is it that every time Tim Duncan does something well versus the Lakers, he always gets screwed over — royally — by somebody on the Lake Show. For example, he hit that fadeaway over Shaq in game five of the 2004 Western Conference Semi-Finals. Way better than Derek Fisher’s impending 0.4 shot. I mean, when you knock down a fading three (3) over a seven footer (Shaq) like the way Duncan did in the clutch, how do you expect to lose the game? They did. By one. In oh-point-four (0.4) seconds. It was a travesty. Look here: Duncan puts up 30 points and 18 rebounds against the Lakers in game one, but it’s kind of overshadowed by Kobe’s second half efforts and team victory. Sorry, Tim, you’ll get ’em next time. . . that is, if you don’t have another amazing game that further solidifies you as the greatest power forward of all time.
If you’re looking for my thoughts on the Celtics debacle from last night, I don’t know where to begin. I knew this series would be erratic. I picked the Pistons to win the series of my Celtics in six (6) games. Not because I’m disloyal, but because I’m a hardcore realist and I’m going to take experience of instant credibility. Doc Rivers is a terrible coach — where do I begin on that (I could write all day)? But what better can I say about Flip Saunders (who had his own blunder that Rivers is about to perennially make — the 2005-2006 NBA season where the Pistons posted the best regular season record in the league; they were ousted by the Miami Heat in the Eastern Conference Finals)? You can’t say a whole lot of good about either of them unless you’d like to send some props to Doc for his shiny bald head and shoes, but that’s irrelevant anyway.
Chauncey Billups is going to muscle up against any smaller point guard out there. No different with Rondo. In the first game of the series, Billups was feeling bad — it was obvious that he wasn’t him same self. Last night he didn’t feel much better (as you could tell again), but played significantly better. Although he may have further aggravated his injury when he knocked Rondo to the paint to turn around, setting up a motioning Richard (Rip) Hamilton.
“Cool stuff, Pistons,” Doc Rivers was probably thinking. “I wonder how I can guide my boys to defend that stuff? I don’t think I can. Maybe I should leave and go back to the ABC/ESPN studios to work as an analyst there; besides, I was much cooler than when I worked there, anyway. And– oh, wait, check out the rack on that concession stand lady up there. Woo yeah, baby. ALL RIGHT! TIME OUT! I need to check her out a little more! Hey you! *points to a Celtics fan in a green shirt* Direct the team while I’m gone! I already paid the ESPN studios not to film me while I’m away from the bench.”
Can somebody give me a freakin’ formula for winning in the NBA? Because I believe I have misplaced it in my mind.