Monday, April 25, 2011

Remembering Game 4 while waiting for Game 5

I cannot explain how delicious this monster-ass bowl of Crow tastes right now. I was wrong, I was wrong, HOLY SHIT WAS I WRONG. And I have never been so happy to own up to the inaccuracies of my oppinions.


After a game 2 loss to the Mavericks I wrote the Brandon Roy was a shell of his former self and that he brings nothing to the table and takes everything off. I referred to any line up that featured him in it as "4 on 5." I said the Natural was done.

Again, I was WRONG!

Game 3 saw a vintage Brandon take over quarter. As the third quarter started Brandon had a flashback and scored most of his bench high 16 points to help propell and secure a 97-92 win. The man who two days before had admitted to almost crying on the bench for how little he was being used did what he needed too: he sucked it up, took his minutes and let his game do the talking.

The city of Portland had a collective and simulationous orgams/heartattack. It was awesome.

I kept thinking that I was watching a dvr'd game from two years ago. Then I'd see Gerald Wallace and know that we were in the present.

Then Game 4, by the grace of God (and one particular Laker fan's bad decision) I won a free ticket to go watch it in an executive suite.

By now you should know what transpired... down 18 (and 23 points at one point in the third) starting the 4rth quarter Brandon Roy started playing at a level that can only be described as "Playing NBA 2k and turning the difficulty down from Legend to Rookie".

No one could stay in front of him. Every shot was falling. Brandon scored 18 of Portlands 35 (and his game high 24 points)in the final period, including the winning bank shot with 39 seconds left.

When that shot went in, it was pure meyham. The crowd shot up in unison and let a rawr that will never be rivaled by another crowd. It was like a bomb went off. His shot was like watching the miricle of birth and Jesus feeding 5000 rolled up into one, multiplied by 5. I lost my voice, I could taste blood from all the screaming and I was dry humping complete strangers.

It was magical.

The game ended with a Jason Terry missed three pointer. The customary red and white streamers came falling from the sky and we gave those Blazers the ovation of their lives. If it were a final scene from a movie, you would think the crowd was trying to upstage the players.

After the players had left the court and all the whitness started to file out to the concorse, I had to sit back in my seat. Mentally, I was tired (I had worked a shift before that). Emotionally, I was all tapped out. I'm confident enough in my masculinity to admit I got choked up. I didn't sob uncontrolably, but my eyes were a little soggy.

And screw you if you think thats wierd. Because that was a once in a life time moment- that as a sports fan, you dream about whitnessing live. And I did. So I'm in the right here.

Which feels good, especially when you take in a count how wrong I was about the other thing.




RIP CITY BABY!


Now I'm sitting here at work, waiting for Game 5 to start. I fully expect no one to listen to my " I'm at work, please don't tell me the score" pleas, so I'm leaving early. I'm toeing the line between confident and nervous.


Knowing the Mavericks playoff woes like I do, I expect Portland to pull out this game and wrap it on Thursday. That being said, I can't shake the feeling of uneasiness. Dirk frightens me, and the refs in abillity to be good when it matters frighten me. So, I guess we'll see.


One more thing about Roy. Who knows what these last two games mean. Does this mean the doctors are wrong? Was this just an exmample of a broken clock being right twice a day? I feel like I'm in high school again, and a girl who typically pays me no attention randomly has sat in my lap and is nibbling on ear. My heart (and penis) hope that only good can come from this. My brain remains confused.


In my last post I wrote "Look, no one wants Brandon to return to form and start destorying people on a nightly baises more then I." And it's true. I would've killed to see him light someone up. I just didn't believe it would ever happen.


Oh boy was I wrong.

(side note: I would also like to thank God that I didn't end up writing my feelings after game 2. It would've been long, negative and 100 percent focused on Brandon Roy and his post game comments)

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Game 1: RIP #7

My dad brought up a point last night that rattled me. Not because it was profound or anything, but I was shocked that I found myself agreeing. Brandon Roy is done.

It's the same converstation I have been having with other Blazer fans for 5 months now. Brandon Roy is never goign to be the same guy again. Not even a fraction of what he once was. It's a sad realization for any Blazer fan to come to, something I've been dealing with since December, but for some reason last night it hit me different. It felt wrong to agree with him. I felt dirty. Brandon Roy is my guy and I'm saying things like, "he brings nothing to the table," and "we should call any lineup with him in it 4 on 5" or the most hurtful, "I'd rather see Fat Ass Oden and his cane in the game right now, instead of Brandon."

I know, that was some super hurtful material. Look at it from my perspective: talking that kind of junk about B Roy is on the same level as disowning family members. Don't see it that way? Remember, I'm the one who was dead set on honoring the Natural by naming my first born after him.

Boy or Girl.

Lets put it this way, I'm not quite on a level where I'm seeking professional advice to help cope with watching number 7 pretend to be the same guy he was last year, but I'm close. I just would hate for this to be the reason The Fiance (formerly the Girlfriend) leaves me.

Take last night for an example: the 'Natural' put up a stat line that looked like this 26 minutes 1-7 shooting, 4 fouls and 2 points. On the surface, it just looks like another shitty bench player performance. God knows Rudy has put up MANY stat lines that resemble that. However, Roy's shitty night was alot worse then Rudy's shitty night ( he had one too). Roy's was more destructive when you factor in that he played most of his minutes in the 4th quarter of 81-89 loss.

Seriously Nate, we need to finally come to grips with his knees are shit. They will not heel. No amount of prayer, surgery, or magic will change this. Nothing is going to happen thats going to make Roy flip back into 'Natural' mode. No matter how much you ( or any fan) wish it would.

That last paragraph sucked to write.

Look, no one wants Brandon to return to form and start destorying people on a nightly baises more then I. Believe that. But unless there is experimental surgery to put the legiments back in his knee- which I remained confused on why there isn't- it's not going to happen. We need to get used to that. So does Nate.

Bottom line is this: Tuesday night, Wes and Nic need to have monster nights so Nate McMillian doesn't find himself looking at his bench for answers, seeing Brandon Roy (having a flashback to two years ago, or even last year when he played in a game 8 days after surgery) and saying to himself, "oh shit, Brandon will save us."

Because he won't.

(that sentence also sucked to write).

Friday, April 1, 2011

A Mariner Preview

Here we go again. I some how have managed a way to talk my into being excited for the 2011 Mariners who look strangely (and unfortunatly) like the 2010 Seattle Mariners. Which is not a good thing. But it's 2011 and not 2010, and despite what the numbers from last year suggest, these are professional athletes, which could be a good thing. Theoretically, they can't be as bad offensively as they were last year. And that right there leaves me hoepful. I'm not going to break the team down like I did last year with a monster 500 page manifest like preview. Lets face it, last year my credibillity got boned right in the butt. I'm just gonna commit to doing somewhat regular ( more so then I have been lately) posts about my thoughts on the season. Here are some quick thoughts though, that can substitute for a preview:

  • Felix is awesome. He won 13 games last year and still was voted the Cy Young. He probably should've been MVP too... because he literally was doing it by himself some nights.

  • Dear Chone Figgins, we signed you to field ground balls and put Ichiro in scoring position. Not to be a bitch. Please act accordingly.

  • I guess Eric Wedge is willing to try coexsisting with Milton "Bat Shit Crazy" Bradly one more year. He's ran him out of one city already, this should be fun.

  • Jack Cust is a huge M'Fer.

  • This season rests on two huge factors (other then the offense not being historically bad again): Justin Smoak and Eric Bedard.

  • If Bedard can reattatch his arm, and be half way decent- we have a solid rotation.

  • If Smoak can do half of what his potential says he can- we could be sneaky this year. (Shit, they say he could turn into Mark Texiera)

  • And yes, I think if the Mariners can remember how to play like professional baseball players, I do think they can be good.

All that being said, lets get ready to watch Felix do what he does best: shut down the other team while the Mariners squeeze out two runs.





PS. it's really nice to know that Felix is back in my life. He just makes life better.