Monday, April 30, 2007

Why the Dallas-Golden State series
is Giving Me Deja Vu
(& Freaking Me Out).

What leaves me dusty & bewildered about the Warriors going up 3-1 on the No. 1 Mavs is the L (& especially the Playoffs!) is NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THIS COLORFUL, at least in REAL LIFE. Witnessing the Warriors is akin to playing NBA Live in a Reviewieran vien.1 Perhaps, in my little NBA video-game garden of eden, shit like this can go down, in the fashion that it has. But not in Real Life.

Furthermore, there's this whole Promise Of the Suns Revolution Fulfill'd shit going down that I didn't see coming. Specifically, an 8-rank Warriors team wielding the harbinger scimitar.

All of this is too much, so I settle for unsettling deja vu hijinx.

Below follows a brilliant mock-AP Wire game report which (me & Fat's mutual friend) Chris Collision wrote almost exactly 2 years ago.

NBA Live 2005 was our nectar, then, Fat tearing around w/ the Nuggs & Warriors, maybe a little 6ers; me w/ the likes of the Wiz, Bucks & Clippers. One lazy afternoon, we whiled away a half-dozen 20-min. games, matching these various squads up versus 1 another. I won every single game, 'cept the last.

I've bolded parts I find downright creepy regarding the current state of affairs.
Coach Loses Game, Cool
(DATELINE: Portland, report filed by UPI stringer Chris Collision)

Following the stunning collapse of Coach D.D. Tinzeroes' normally indomitable Milwaukee Bucks squad, tempers flared and a decades-old relationship between two coaches may be in serious trouble. A rag-tag bunch of misfits assembled to play under the banner of the Oakland Warriors managed to close a double-digit gap in under two minutes of game time last night, forcing turnover after turnover and hitting clutch 3s like Bruce Bowen bitchslapping a Croatian hooker. During this run, the usually cool, calm, and collected Tinzeroes repeatedly lost his cool on the sidelines, screaming helpful tips at his lads: "Rebound! Execute! Oh, Come ON!!!".

After The Zarko Cabarkapa (two-headed President of the Galaxy) hit a tough runner in the lane, improbably putting the Warriors up by a deuce, Coach Tinzeroes smiled thinly and called his final time-out. Surely with 5 seconds left on the clock, the master strategist could come up with the winningest of plays. The playoff-tested veteran had to have the edge over the young, not particularly bright Coach Lafayette "Fat" Contradiction. (Contradiction's major late-game move had been to insert Adonal Foyle into the game, for reasons best left unprobed.)

Inbounds. Moments later, the unthinkable occurred as the final horn sounded, the ball still nestled firmly in Joe Smith's giant paws, proving the ancient hoops adage: truly, you miss every one of the shots you don't take.

After the game, Warriors Coach Contradiction had little to say. "Shit, man, we had to win one sometime. The guy owns me, what can you say?
I was happy to escape with a win, and happier that we won playing the right way. You know, with a shoot-first point guard going for 38. Just the loosey-goosey way I love to run." The irascible coach then strangely kissed his thumb and waved it in the air. Uncapping his 40, he took a mighty pull, grinned like an idiot, and ended the press conference, saying only "After a win like this one, I'm gonna go get tore up. Mamas, lock up your strippers!".

Coach Tinzeroes, however, was considerably more voluble. "Bullshit. Total bullshit. I call a goddamned play, tweak the lineup for total control, and what happens? Joe fucking Smith happens. The only man who makes Marcus Camby's hands look soft. Great execution boys, just fucking great."

When asked about the failure, the multiple-time champion turned from winningest to whiningest: "Well, really, the Bucks have no business even being on the same court as the Warriors. We were at a massive talent disadvantage--I think that was quite clear--and it really just screwed us over in that fourth quarter. I mean, you can only ask Anthony Goldwire to dominate Baron Davis for so long.
Eventually Davis is gonna wake up, take the ball away from you repeatedly, and shove 3-balls into your ears while pushing his thumbs into your eye sockets. I really thought we had 'em when Jason Richardson fouled out. I mean, Fat's a nice guy and all, but he's a horrible coach. Without high-level players, he's sunk. No offensive skill at all, he just sorta lets his guys run around and jack up off-balance jumpers while he eats pizza and pounds tallboys on the bench. Total lack of class, totally unprofessional. A disgrace to this league and to the game that I love to simulate."
Looking over my shoulder.


1 The Reviewieran tendencies toward NBA Live being covered, sorta, here, and here.

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