Tim Duncan is not stupid! He’s not, he’s not, he’s not! I’m sorry I ever inferred such a thing. I haven’t been this wrong and ashamed since I mistakenly believed the lyrics in Jimi Hendrix’s “Purple Haze” were “Excuse me, while I kiss this guy” rather than “the sky” back in middle school. Now even Henry Abbott’s angry at me! What have I done?!

This was an imperfect thought experiment. A highly imperfect experiment, actually—like the “second time they tried to make a Kelly LeBrock model in Weird Science”-level of imperfect. I actually wrote this little doo-dad while on a seemingly endless conference call with one hand over my phone receiver and the other typing (stopping intermittently to perform the important task of picking my nose). It was the speaker’s rambling on the other line that actually made me recall the late Admiral Stockdale, and then I happened to glance over at this slacker dude in an adjoining cubicle, whose hair is shaggy like Adam’s (and is always just barely minimizing his World of Warcraft window in time before the boss walks by), and one thing led to another and…what can I say, I’m sorry I brought it up.

Anyway, all I was suggesting was that Tim Duncan doesn’t seem like the type who spends much time pondering his historical legacy—can we agree on that? And even that could be wrong. For all I know, he’s got a dartboard at home with David Robinson’s face and a picture of George Gervin, from which he removes a strip of clothing every time he breaks one of the Ice Man’s franchise records. I’m just going off his laconic public persona. Meanwhile, Kobe does care about history, and more importantly, his place in it (I don’t think I’m stretching with that assumption). Adam’s somewhere in the middle, and that’s a potentially dangerous thing if he ever wants to go down as one of the greats. (it could also be a moot point if his leg never heals or, even more terrifyingly to us Bobcats fans, he’s–um–just not very good)

But for the record, one last time: Duncan is NOT stupid. On the contrary, he’s a thoughtful and considerate young man, apparently beloved by psychology teachers. I also just want to point out that I wrote in the article that Tim Duncan is not stupid. So after all this, if you still truly believe I think he is stupid, then you’re also probably the type who thinks AC/DC’s “Givin’ the Dog a Bone” is about proper pet care.

The Bobcats are now 3-0 in games that aren’t televised.  By myself, I probably represent 50% of Charlotte’s out-of-market fan base, so I think I speak for most of us when I tell you, League Pass, that we do NOT appreciate shelling out all that cash to see our beloved franchise, with its rich history, etc., only to tune in and find the game’s NOT on—especially when they’re playing a big-time powerhouse like the Clippers.  It’s bad enough that I’m marooned up here in NYC, where every time I take my dog for a walk I’ve got to be careful that he doesn’t start chewing on a discarded syringe or licking a homeless guy’s urine bottle, but now I’ve got to fill up this column with lame, unfunny jokes instead of analysis because I CAN’T WATCH MY TEAM.  And then, to top it off, it looks like they went out and played reasonably well!  And considering they’ve only won 8 games total, I’ve missed practically half of them. 
 
Anyway, after I flipped through the 401-412 channels, began drifting into the porn-on-demand region, and eventually accepted that the game wouldn’t be on, I realized that my only alternatives were the Knicks-Sonics game and E3: The Extra Testicle.  Considering both were crude productions put on by people with limited abilities, it was kind of a tough choice.  But I went with Knicks game, just to get a look at Kevin Durant.  K-Smoove was definitely solid with 30 points, and yet…it was accomplished so incrementally—4 in the first quarter, 7 in the second, 10 in the third, 9 in the fourth, and he almost never scored more than twice in a row—that you never felt him taking over the game.  Of course, his athleticism is there, and he’s willing to drive to the hoop despite having less bulk than a Kenyan marathoner, and all of this at 19—yikes, he could become the biggest one-man-wrecking crew since Gandhi 2.          
 
On the opposite end of realized potential, I also fixated on Chris Wilcox.  I can’t help but feel disappointed by him.  It’s not that bigger things were expected from him coming out of Maryland 5 years ago, but…I guess that’s it, actually: bigger things weren’t expected of him.  Forget about his PPG; if you look at him, he’s so naturally big and strong, that how could he only be averaging 5.5 rebounds for his career?  And just .41 blocks a game??  I mean, the guy’s 6’-10”.  I remember after Greg Oden announced he’d be missing the season, Bill Simmons had an excellent article about how some big guys “fill out” their size and weight better than others.  Well, Wilcox is excellently proportioned, and yet you can tell he does nothing to improve upon it.  And look at Hollinger’s scouting report on ESPN.com: “he has no post game at all and I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him attempt a real jump shot.”  Well, to be blunt, that tells me he’s really not practicing.  So what's he doing with himself?  I guess just coasting on $6.5 million per.  For the general, non-NBA-adoring public, there’s always going to be a disproportionate amount of coverage devoted to “thuggish” behavior, but for those of us who care about it, it’s guys like Wilcox who will frustrate us much more.
 
So, how’s this for a 180-degree turn: we go from no television coverage at all to prime-time national coverage on ESPN tonight.  It’s okay, though, it’s Orlando, and as everyone knows from last year, we own these guys on prime-time TV.
 
PS—
Romance Tip of the Week: Any of you fellas with better halves out there want some guaranteed action? Take 'em to see Juno ASAP.  It’s not all that funny, the dialogue is completely unrealistic (EVERYONE, including and especially little kids, zing each other nonstop with late-night talk show-caliber one-liners), and an annoying amateur acoustic song breaks out approximately every 2.5 seconds, but trust me: the women will love it.  Not only is there heartwarming romance (the audience in my particular theatre seemed ready to fawn from the giddy-up; there were tons of "Aww"s) in the mood, but there are tons of gal-pal scenes and “you-go-girl” moments—highlighted by Juno’s step-mom going ballistic on an ultrasound technician for whom I felt kind of sorry—that will unleash the tiger in them.  For just a 90-minute investment, you can’t miss…                   

Just about everything from Saturday night’s game against Seattle went perfectly.  First, traveling across the country, coming off a double-OT game the night before, playing the dreaded 4th game in 5 nights, and in general sucking, the Sonics were handed to us on a silver platter.  Second, Charlotte continued to defeat the teams that it should defeat.  Third, Jason Richardson justified my love by asserting his ability to dominate, drilling 4 3-pointers for 14 points in three minutes during the 3rd quarter and thereby catalyzing a victory.  Fourth, Ryan Hollins put in another 25 minutes of solid work, collecting 6 points, 7 rebounds, a block, and a steal; as long as Hollins keeps this up, Coach Vincent can continue to yank starter Primoz Brezec faster than Viva Laughlin.  Finally, we held Seattle to just 31% shooting and committed just 15 turnovers in another inspired team effort.
 
In fact, all in all, there was just one small problem: I couldn’t watch any if it because the game wasn’t televised.  I swear to Pat Riley, I was pretty darned angry when it wasn’t even available on League Pass.  I tried to make due with watching the running ticker on NBA.com, but after about twenty minutes or so, ayo!  I was tired of using technology.  Instead I flipped over to the Nets-Heat game, observed Vince Carter in a suit, and gave silent prayers of thanks to our management for not signing him to a 4-year, $66 million deal (with the whole MJ-VC-UNC thing, it had been one of my greatest fears this past spring—in fact, next time I see a Jumpman insignia, I’m going to cross myself).  At least they ran some highlights on NBA TV Daily the next day, although they were of the "cheerleader-cam" sort: directly under the basket and hard to make anything out.  I remember this happened twice last season, but not until much later in the year.  

Oh, and one other semi-related note on this one: did anyone see Peter King’s “MMQB” column on SI.com yesterday—the part where he wrote about the ongoing NFL Network-Cable war?  King actually wrote the line, “I don't watch the Network much, because I don't have time to watch much NFL programming other than games…I have nothing against it, and I'm sure I'm missing things by not watching the regular programming. But there's a sea of NFL programming on ESPN and Fox and everywhere else, and you could go blind watching it all.”  Umm, anyone have a problem with this admission?  King doesn’t have time?  How could you be a paid commentator—who covers only one sport, I might add—and not watch the network that’s solely devoted to your sport?  And then the “ESPN and Fox is enough for me” part—brother, no wonder they all sound alike…We need some sort of indie-sportswriting revolutionary figure to topple these empires.  I can see it now: t-shirts of The Basketball Jones’s Skeets and Taz looking like Che Guevara.
 
Anyway, onto last night’s game with Portland, wherein we got our first look at their prized hulking rookie…Josh McRoberts.  Josh played his first minute (not minutes) of the year, but he didn’t do much other than exhibit his wild-looking hair.  Jeez, the last time I saw him flaming out at Duke, he had a crew-cut.  Now he looks like he played one of the Dylan parts in I’m Not There.
 
Anyway, onto the game itself.  We were in firm control for the better part of three quarters, thanks to foul trouble to bigs LaMarcus Aldridge, Channing Frye, and Joel Pryzbilla (who’s not much more than a rich man’s Primoz Brezec anyway).  The lackluster play of their interior was a key aspect of Portland’s loss.  "Not to blame LaMarcus and Joel,” Coach Nate McMillan said after the game—and I love when jocks use the phrase, “Not to blame,” because then they go on to do precisely that— “but the two of those guys had two rebounds.”    
 
The Blazers narrowed the score to 40-36 at the half, courtesy of Steve Blake’s ridiculous half-court shot at the buzzer, but we came out charging in the third.  “You never know when it’s going to come,” Coach Sam Vincent said after the game, speaking of Jason Richardson’s 24-point performance.  Actually you do, Coach, it’s going to come in the 3rd quarter.  Richardson had 14 points in his latest third quarter outburst and had us hovering around a double-digit lead.  “Sometimes the basket is the size of an ocean, sometimes it's the size of a cup,” Richardson later told reporters, and for one terrifying second I thought he was going to recite a poem that he had written.  Thankfully, he simply added, “When you see the ocean, you shoot.”
 
All of a sudden, though, the Blazers came back, even briefly leading by 3-points at the beginning of the 4th quarter.  This was mostly due to some really cheesy referee work, in my opinion (not to blame them, but…).   Gerald Wallace and Jeff McInnis both got called for some ludicrous charges and touch fouls (even the Portland announcers believed they were bogus), and of course Crash was crushed on a bunch of drives that weren’t whistled at all.  I think the refs were subconsciously refusing to foul out Aldridge, Frye, Pryzbilla, and Brandon Roy.  Jarrett Jack (18 points) also deserves some huge credit for sparking Portland off the bench, as does Blake (4-5 3’s, 14 points, 6 boards), and even though Roy had a somewhat muted night (14, 5, 5), he was still a 2nd-half force.
 
But Raymond Felton refused to lose, getting 16 of his 24 points and dishing 7 of his 10 assists in the last stanza.  Gerald Wallace also had his 3rd straight 27-pointer, plus six steals and some truly demoralizing stuffs.  Okafor had a solid 12-12 double-double.  And even though neither scored much, Matt Carroll and Ryan Hollins both had 2 huge offensive rebounds to bail out the offense and keep the possessions going.       
         

We’re now 6-4, and yeah, we haven’t exactly been facing the 1996 Bulls night in and night out, but we haven’t been facing the 2007 Bulls either.  These are some solid young teams we’re beating, and the wins are especially impressive when they come despite blowing leads.  And just think, last year at this time we were 2-8.      

Holy crap, not one but THREE people commented on my last entry!  I was getting so worried that no one ever read this thing that my next blog was just going to be, "Echo!"
 
Anyway, quick update of fake news on this fake draft: the fake Trail Blazers fakely selected Greg Oden (no surprise), and the virtual Sonics took a Durant hologram.  Then the pseudo- Atlanta Hawks–and I swear I'm NOT making this up–selected Al Horfod rather than a point guard.  Makes me wonder if it's actually the real Hawks front office calling the shots on that one. 
 
Then, in a bit of comedy, the imposter Grizzlies first CHEWED OUT the Hawks blogger for taking Horford when they (virtual Atlanta) didn’t need him and replica Memphis did.  And in a bit of mock draft revenge, Memphis selected Conley.  I’m kind of glad Conley’s off the table because something truly bothers me about the way he and Oden keep insisting how they want to be on the same team; I can picture one of them (mostly Conley) pulling a Vince Carter later and insisting on being traded to whatever team Oden's on.
 
Then I got this trade proposal from “Bullets Forever” blogger Mike (a name that continues to crack me up, because they were really only the Bullets for about 25 years), which I will relay to you word-for-word:
———–
MIKE: Do you have any interest in trading for Antonio Daniels?  How does an offer of AD and Darius Songaila for Sean May and the 22nd pick sound?
 
ME: I say no, but let me put it to my web page for due diligence.
 
MIKE: Would you consider AD for #22 and Brevin Knight?
 
ME: I don't think so, man.  AD's a year older, costs $1.1 million more, averaged 2 points, 3 assists, and 1 steal LESS per game than Brevin, plus I'd have to throw in a 22nd pick for him?  Am I missing something?
————
I love it!  He gives me a crappy offer, and when I reject it, he turns around and gives me a WORSE offer.  
 
All right, so I’m getting a couple of theories here.  KAPZX and Dwyan both are anti-Joaquin Noah.  In fact, KAPZX hates Noah so much that he suggested an amendment to the draft rules wherein I could send fake agents (whom I visualize as looking like Agent Smith from “The Matrix”) over to Georgetown University and try to talk Roy Hibbert (“Miiiiiisster Hibbert…” the agents would say) into re-entering the draft.  I love the idea, but I don’t think that’s going to fly with Dungeon Master Mike (especially when I just basically laughed in his face over the AD-BK trade proposal).  
 
I totally agree about Noah—he’s probably just going to be a more expensive Anderson Varejao.  We should always be suspicious when big guys are described as “high-energy” because it’s generally a euphemism for “uncoordinated spazz.”  AIRBOBCAT likes Yi, although he probably won’t be available by the time it's our turn.  So it sounds like we should be drafting according to skill and not need, in which case, I would agree that Brewer is probably the best available player at #8.  No one seems to know anything at all about Spencer, and that probably applies to most of the state of Washington as well.  So my new tentative plan is that unless Yi is available at #8, I’m probably going to go with Brewer—agreed?
 
More fake updates to follow, and here is the link to the SB Nation web page that lists the picks and the rationales by each selecting team (or types of crack smoked, if you’re the Atlanta blogger):

http://www.indycornrows.com/  

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