Tip Off Talk

Yeah, I know. The Nets are down 0-2. But it’s not like the Jazz being down 0-2.

And when the smoke finally clears on the NBA Eastern Conference finals, the Nets will be champs of the East developmental leauge.

The LeBron dogpile is a little bit embarassing. For you, not LeBron.
Damned if he does, damned if he don’t — LeBron is crucified for both passing off and taking the clutch shot.

What is being missed here, you dogpiling twits, is that Jersey had legitimate chances to win BOTH of those games — on the road — against the East’s best. It should be 1-1 and could easily be 2-0 Jersey.

In a game of bouncing balls, all you need is a chance. When you’re on the road in the Conference finals, any single digit deficit in the final minute is a victory of sorts. Pyrrhic, perhaps. But a victory nonetheless.

While the Blame Gang challenges the 22-year-old LeBron’s guile, grit and game over two 3-point losses, they also plant the seeds of change. If the games are that close in Detroit, what are the NJ home court crazies going to bring to the next two?

Trouble. Big MoTown trouble, that’s what. Jersey in 7.
He passed.

Holy lopsided, Batman!
As if the Western Conference didn’t already own the East’s jock.
Now, both Oden and Durant are headed to the Pacific Coast, stacking the west like Wendy Whoppers in a lawn chair.

Like I said before, get the Celtics out of Boston. Bostonians don’t like them Shamrock types anyway. Or the Jewish types. Or immigrants of any kind (including themselves). Or their fathers. Or their brothers. Or their dogs. Or their barbers. Or their outfielders. Or their goalie. Or … (message edited due to 451 Press database memory constraints).

Get them Four-Leaf-Clover wearing Celtics out in Vegas where they belong. Just think of the explosion in sales of rabbits feet, rosary beads and Lucky Charms breakfast cereal.
After all, what city is more lucky than Vegas?

Can’t think of one. New Orleans, maybe? Crawford, Texas, perhaps? Baghdad? Kirkuk? Mosul? Basrah? Najaf? Fallujah? (message edited due to 451 Press database memory constraints).

OK, So this doesn’t have anything to do with the draft or Beantown bigotry and self loathing. But I nearly wet myself watching it (wait until the end. It’s worth it. Shades of Chris Farley)

Like no other sport, the NBA draft changes franchises.

With fewer than 400 professional grade athletes on the planet, the NBA and structure of basketball yield an overall talent advantage over any major sport.
The MLB has 30 teams of 25 for 750 top players.
The NFL is even thinner with 1,440 among 32 teams.

The NBA has less than half at 360. And 4 out of 12 rarely take off their sweatpants. That leaves 240 actual players who decide games.

Enter Greg Oden and/or Kev Durant.

Both are ready to contribute today, and both deserve 25-30 minutes on the court opening night. After all, there are official NBA jerseys to sell.

And that, my lovely readership, is the caveat.
In baseball, most No. 1 picks putter out or get injured before working their way through the 2-to-3 year minor league training program.
In football, most No. 1 picks get arrested smoking dope with Pac-Man and Chris Henry.

Even if a baseball or football top pick makes the show, they’re unlikely to stay around for more than 3 or 4 years.

In the NBA, top picks make franchises — especially this year.

Memphis and Boston won 46 games combined this past season. Portland won 32.
With Oden clogging and flogging in the paint, Portland will win 50 and be a middle Western Conference seed.

With the 4 and 5 picks, respectively, Memphis and Boston will be hard pressed to win 60 combined.

Imagine, if you will, a marriage — A marriage between the United Methodist Young Adult Bingo Club and the A/X Armani Exchange-Chicago.

Now, imagine this marriage was fruitful. Imagine the Bingo and Suit union produced an offspring, writhing and pawing in its own afterbirth.
Stay with me.

That offspring is the NBA Lottery show — the annual attempt for Davy Stern and the NBA owners to discredit NBA conspiracy theorists.

That show, my friends and colleagues, is tonight.

Bouncy colored balls.
Greying, balding team reps and General Managers picking nervously at their white collars.
Slimy agents with gold bracelets, running their hairy fingers through their fake, black hair.

Beautiful.
And it’s sure to get better ratings than Part Deux of the Jazz-Spurs Massacre of ‘07.
Tune in. ESPN. 8:30 p.m. Eastern.
See you there.

Championship Odds:
San Antonio — 4:7
Detroit — 9:4
Utah — 10:1
Cleveland — 14:1

History
Cleveland: 15 playoff appearances, 43-57 record, 0 titles
Utah: 21 playoff appearances, 102-103 record, 0 titles
Detroit: 38 playoff appearances, 177-160 record, 3 titles
San Antonio: 27 playoff appearances, 133-115 record, 3 titles

Western Conference head-to-head — 2-2
Spurs 102-93 at S.A.
Spurs 106-83 at S.A.
Jazz 97-93 at Utah
Jazz 83-75 at Utah

Eastern Conference head-to-head — Pistons 3-1
Pistons 87-82 in MoTown
Pistons 90-78 in Ohio
Pistons 87-71 in Ohio
Cavs 101-97 at MoTown

Injuries: Utah G Dee Brown, neck, gametime decision

And now, Ali G gold

The similarities are downright spooky.

On defense, Gretzky was a putz with a random quick stick turnover.
On defense, Nash is a putz with a random quick kick.

On offense, Gretzky was a lighting bolt in the Oak Trees — zipping and zapping opposing defenses with both crafty assists and indefensible individual scoring.
On offense, Nash is a Maestro in man shorts — making a mockery of defensive lanes and 3-point arcs without a whisper of conscience.

Without Gretzky, the Oilers, Kings and NHL were dead.
Without Nash, the Mavs, Suns and the spirit of John Stockton were dead.

Facing Nash or Gretzky, what do you do?
Despite your skill, Nash and Gretzky will beat you down and win this playoff game, Big Man.
If you do lose, your kids go to school the next day with brown paper bags on their heads.
If you do lose, your trophy wife spends the day learning squat-thrusts from the 17-year-old pool boy.
WTF do you do to keep from losing?
Anything. Damn near anything.

If it were Barry Bonds, you walk him and pitch to Ray Durham or Moises Alou.
If it were Shaquille O’Neal, you double team him, hack him and force him to shoot freebies from 15-feet.
If it were Nancy Kerrigan, you get some Tool to club her in the leg with a tire iron.

If it is Nash or Gretzky, you beat them up.

With tape on his nose and sadness in his groin from martial arts encounters earlier in this series, Nash took the court Monday.
With the game decided and series squared, bench player and league veteran Robert Horry made a third attempt to Crunch the Canadian.

Weak. Booo, even. (video below)
If such a cheap-shot play is away from the ball, or no serious attempt is made at the ball, the offender must sit 1 game.
Hard fouls are part of the playoff game. Cheap shots such as Horry vs. Nash and Davis vs. Fisher (see below post) in the final minute are not.

Had the fragile Nash been injured and missed the rest of the playoffs, Horry would get at least 5 games. Perhaps the rest of the postseason. Nash out is bad NBA business.
Had Gretzky been lost in the second round of the playoff to an Enforcer, the same would apply. Gretzky out has proven to be NBA fratricide.

At the time of this posting, no word had trickled down from the NBA office on Horry.

Further, The Great One has no comment.
Yet.

Just when I was starting to fall for the Warriors …

… Sunday night in California, Baronette Davis had his true colors on brilliant, HDTV display.
When the going got tough against Utah and Cindy-rella was losing her glass slipper, Davis showed us exactly who he was by taking a cheap shot elbow to the head of Jazz guard Derek Fisher (below top). After missing his 3, Davis’ classy response was a blindside forearm shiv.

You lost your cool, GS. It’s tougher to lose with class than win with class. C’mon. Act like you’ve been there before. Oh, wait. You haven’t.

Earlier in the weekend, San Antonio thugee-master Bruce Bowen stuck his right knee in the babymakers of Steve Nash (below bottom).

That wasn’t the worst of it, however. The worst was the non-suspension call by David Stern and the NBA pencil pushers. By not suspending Bowen, David Stern put the testicles and potential familydom of every NBA player in harm’s way.
The precedent is set. So long as you don’t leave the bench in a playoff fist-fight, you can beat the hell out of other guys on the floor who aren’t looking.

We understand you want to neuter the league, Dave. With your anti-bling dress code and hip-hop hate. Just keep your idle hands off our playoff balls, huh?

Today, Stern has a chance to suspend Davis and even Jason Richardson (hammer foul on Okur, not pictured). Richardson’s foul was somewhat within the boundaries of tough, hard play. Davis, however, needs to miss 20 games to start next season. This was far worse than Carmelo’s ‘Slap-Backpedal’ dance (also not pictured).

That German kid has game, no question. He was the NBA’s best all around shooter — setting career bests this past season in field goal percentage (50.2), 3-point percentage (41.6) and free-throw percentage (90.4).
And there is no question Dapper Dirk is the NBA’s regular season MVP. None.

He was on the league’s best team through 82 games, and his mouthpiece shifting skills are second to none. But at the tender age of 29, that CurryWurst eating cat from Wurzburg is the Lamest Lame Duck since Dubya.

To employ golf terminology, Dirk can flat mash off the tee — but he can’t chip, can’t putt, can’t finish.

Using baseball as a crossover, Dirk is the guy who crushes shots into the gap and then gets picked off second — can’t run, can’t field, can’t finish.

To assume the jargon of current Geopolitical Conflict running afoul (thanks to a certain C-student from Texas and his Vampire master) — Dirk has the guns, the drums and the funds — but he can’t finish what he starts.

And for the first time in league history, an MVP didn’t get out of a first-round 7-game series. When he accepts the trophy in street clothes at someone else’s halftime or pre-game, MVP will stand for …
Mavs Vacate Playoffs
Man Vithout Purpose
Mistaken Vor Player
Massive Victory Potential
Midseason Vote Purveyor
Missing Venom Postseason

Mississippi State coach and bottom shelf beer consumer Larry Eustachy understands Chaos Theory on the NCAA Stage. A fingertip here, a bad bounce there, maybe a college girl on your shoulder —
that was often the difference between winning and losing.
If Larry’s troops are ever playing a quality opponent, all Big E wants is to be within striking distance in the final minute.

“So long as we have a chance to win it at the end,” he would say, “that’s all I can ask of this team.”

Fast forward to the Utah-Golden State series.

Neither team had any distinct advantage at any point in the final minute of regulation of either Game 1 or Game 2. That said, Utah had no right winning Wednesday. If Baron Davis hits one more free throw in the final 15 seconds, the series is tied. If Mickael Pietrus had a real name, he might have hit one of his two freebies in the final seconds and the series is tied.

The Warriors were Up 5 With 9 seconds left, one free toss away from going home tied 1-1. Instead, Utah is up 2-0 and the clock creeping up on midnight for Cinderella.

Don’t blame Utah. They got a bounce in Game 1 and a gift in Game 2. All they need is one more fingertip or friendly bounce on the road Sunday in Game 3 and its straight to the bottom of the beer shelf in BayTown.

Beyond that, here is the sick stat of the series —— Through two, Utah has outrebounded Golden State 114-68. Stick that in your bad bounce.

In our continuing effort to bring you the most painfully obvious and tired topic from the world of basketball, here is your weekly TipOff Talk dose of “Low Hanging Fruit.”

Golden State’s 4-2 series win is the easiest news grab ever. Unlike the rest, this dangling fruit represents the greatest playoff upset in NBA history — the first time EVER an 8 Seed has bumped a 1 Seed in a 7-game playoff series.

In addition, the TipOff Talk staff called it pre-series.

Go Tip-Off-Talk, its your birthday,
Go TOT, get your groove on.
Go Lambert, its your birthday,
Go TOT, picked the Warriors

And now, what it all looked like from the cheap seats Thursday.

Don’t go counting your chips just yet, Vegas. More and more, it sounds like David Stern would sooner stick his tongue in a light socket than stick an NBA franchise in Sin City.
All the posturing of the SuperSonics is just that - posturing.
When asked earlier this week if Vegas was a relocation option, Stern said simply “No,” and shelved all further discussion on the issue.

At the same time, Stern has a hankering to soak the NBA’s balls in China’s Red Sea by sponsoring a league in the world’s most populous nation.
STERN: “We will see in the next couple of years … the possibility of some joint venture between the NBA and someone in China. There are 300 million people in the United States and 300 million basketball players in China. There are extraordinary marketing opportunities in China.

Right. Extraordinary.
Think of all the cheap operations labor available from the indentured servants and political prisoners. Truly out of the ordinary.
Unions and child labor laws force our arenas to cost $400-$500 Million.
You could build a state-of-the-art facility in Shanghai for two hundred Renminbi — provided you’re down with the Chairman Mao and the secret Party handshake.
Us capitalists could really make out on this. Let’s be sure to rape the Chinese middle class of their wealth before they start getting uppity and start demanding electricity.
We need to make sure to get Nike and Reebok involved as well. They have first-hand experience in sweat shop management.

— credits to Ivan Carter, AP, Washington Post