Like most Americans, for more than a decade, BWB has been anticipating this moment, the moment to end all other moments. Finally, after years and years of desperate futility, pining and craving, once again do we find ourselves in a world where the New York Knickerbockers have an ounce of respectability and even a sliver of a hopeful future. Not since the asterisk season of 1998-1999 not only a lockout year, but also the season after Michael Jordan retired for the second time, do the Knicks now seemed poised to make a run in the NBA Playoffs.
In the interests of full disclosure, I am a Boston Celtics fan, but having grown up in New York state and having watched more than my fair share of Knicks games on the MSG network back in the day, I do have an appreciation for them, at least I did when Patrick Ewing was patrolling the paint at the Garden. Mr. Ewing never received the help he sorely needed, a Scottie to his Michael, a Stockton to his Malone, a Kobe to his Shaq, and still those teams contended with (though seldom beat) the Bulls for Eastern Conference supremacy. (And don’t even mention John Starks or Coach Choker and compare them to the solid type 1A number 33 needed for his entire career.)
But now, with Amar’e Stoudemire, Carmelo Anthony and Chauncey Billups running the point, why is it out of the question to think the Knicks are at least the fourth-best team in the East? As things stand now, the Amar’e-led Knicks would be the six seed, meaning a face-off with Derrick Rose and the Bulls? Is it so inconceivable that the new-look Knicks will be able to squeeze out either the Magic or Hawks for the number five seed, or even the four? Perhaps it is fantasy to think this team will get to the Conference Finals this year, but is it so hard to imagine next year’s Conference Finals coming down to a Game Seven in Miami where the 2003 NBA Draft will be on display as Carmelo (number three) attempts to chase down LeBron James (number one), Chris Bosh (number four), and Dwayne Wade (number five) as greatest of the draft? Perhaps the Knicks can swing a trade with whatever God-forsaken outpost Darko (number two) finds himself riding pine in to make the reunion complete.
That being said, if this year’s Conference Finals aren’t Celtics-Heat and Lakers-Spurs, won’t you feel a little bit cheated by this NBA season?
In other news that isn’t important, which means we all care about desperately, Billy Ray Cyrus and his daughter Smiley Miley seem to be feuding. Didn’t we watch this Disney Channel show when it starred the Lohans? You see, this is what happens when parents, whether well-intentioned or not, push their children into the entertainment industry. Willow and Jaden Smith, please listen, I know you are desperate for your father's affection, but it isn’t too late. Do not let your father hijack your careers and lives any further before you can drive a car. I know you think you want to be an actor or a musician, because that was all you grew up around. But trust me, being a child isn’t so bad. After all, it is normal.
Oh yeah, and Justin Bieber still looks like a girl with his new haircut, which looks precisely like his old style, just shorter. As a man with an ever-receding pate, I could care less what kind of haircut that kid has, what offends me more is that a boy who is barely old enough to shave is singing love songs like he actually knows what he is singing about.
The NFL seems to be headed for a lockout. Why? No one really knows. Billionaires want to make more money; they wouldn’t be billionaires (or at the very least nine-digit millionaires without having a streak or two of avarice) otherwise. The players want a bigger piece of the pie, and who can blame them? They are the ones putting their lives on the line to play a game. (And if you don’t think they aren’t putting their lives on the line, I suggest you take a gander at the life story of poor Mike Webster.) This situation makes me wonder what Caesar would have done if the gladiators at the Coliseum went on strike. He probably would have slaughtered them and then brought in replacement gladiators. Thank God we have made some progress, right?
Krystal Smith, a twenty-something townie from Burlington, Vermont won a competition naming her Fastest Grocery Bagger in America. Yesterday was even Krystal Smith Day in Burlington, Vermont. No joke here; sometimes the truth is funnier than any joke one can come up with.
Anyone who thinks the New York Yankees are going to tank this coming baseball season is a fool. While I want desperately for the Bronx Bombers to implode, expecting it is like waiting around for paint to dry. Yes, eventually it will happen one of these days, but you will waste a hell of a lot of time which could be spent reading, watching the grass grow, making fun of the Mets who will surely fall apart yet again, watching "Bridesmaids," a movie which was probably pitched to some know-nothing studio executive: “Just imagine: ‘The Hangover’ but with funny chicks.” (That being said, I think Kristen Wiig is the funniest woman to ever appear on Saturday Night Live, and I will more than likely see this movie. After all, it has Sookie from "Gilmore Girls" in it.)
George Clooney admitted in an interview that he "drank the bong water." By bong water, he was of course referring to bong water and not some humorous, ironic pithy joke someone wrote for him. No folks, George Clooney isn’t the dashing, debonair cultured socialite everyone who saw Ocean’s Eleven, Intolerable Cruelty and Michael Clayton made him look like. No, he is the worst type of stoner in the world. He is the type who doesn’t know better than to disregard bong water at all costs, no matter how fucked up you are, no matter what your friends say about you, and no matter how much you are dared.
To the youngsters out there who haven’t smoked weed, don’t try it ever. But just in case you don’t heed that little piece of advice, whatever you do, heed this next not-so-little piece: UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES, DO NOT DRINK THE BONG WATER!
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