Lead us to victory, Big German

So tonight is the tip off of the NBA Finals pitting the local heroes, the Dallas Mavericks, agianst the Miami Heat. Now I really don't have much to say in preparation for the game because I don't really know what to expect out of this series yet. There are so many big names and ways this thing could go, that I don't even want to attempt to analyze them. In fact, I didn't even feel like writing about any of this today. I know that kinda is a weak excuse. Especially since I have fancied my way through the last few weeks of this column on the crutch of writing about the Mavs. I do, although, feel like I would be cheating eveyone (however many of you there are) if I didn't at least mention a few things about the Mavs. I'm gonna start out with a few things Bill Simmons wrote because they made me a little less prone from jumping out of the window today at work. You can read the whole article here. But for the sake of time, and because Blogger is acting gay and just erased everything I wrote, here are some highlights:

Is there a sports gimmick that's more secretly lousy than the 2-3-2 gimmick in the NBA Finals?
No. It's inane. I hate it. You have one format for the first three rounds of the playoffs, followed by a new format for the Finals? Really? This is logical? This makes sense to everybody? Why not just add a 4-point shot and a multicolored ball?

Agreed. You couldn't be more illogical unless you instituted moving baskets just to make it more difficult. And...

The real problem here: Because so many of these guys shave their heads, it's 10 times harder to tell when they're slipping. After all, Shaq doesn't look any different than he did 10 years ago. Neither does GP. Hell, even Michael Jordan doesn't look much different then he did 15 years ago, save for the wispy mustache that makes him look like he should be playing the sax for Eddie and the Cruisers, and he's in his mid-40s. You just can't tell. Personally, I wish everyone grew their hair out -- wouldn't you rather see Sam Cassell battling these younger guys with one of those Gus Williams-esque balding afros, or Shaq carrying the Heat past the Pistons with Sherman Helmsley's old hairline? And why does this only work for black people? Why can't I just start shaving my head and immediately become ageless? I find the whole thing very unfair.

And finally...

On a scale of 1 to 10, how excited are you for the possibility of Stern handing the trophy to Cuban?
Somewhere between 29 and 35.

Before I get too far, I think that I need to mention that I think the refs will have an insurmountable affect on this series, Simmons touches on this in his article. Most people that I talk to think it will come down to Shaq and his ability to cold-cock people and somehow get the foul called on the D. I think, on the other hand, that Shaq won't get the leniency that he wants. Instead, I think it will come down to DWayde and his ridiculous drives to the hole. I mean give me a break. The guy drives to the rim, leaps into the crowd and heaves the ball over his head and expects to get the foul. And 90% of the time he does. I mean have you ever watched him? He looks like he's a kid at a pool doing a cannonball into the deep end. How is that not an offensive foul? I am insane? Watch a Heat game and see what I'm talking about. It’s the most ridiculous thing in sports. I will now go chew on tin foil.

(More Mavs: Tickets are selling on stubhub for somewhere near 7,000 dollars! Super Bowl tickets only cost like 500! This town is going insane and ticket prices show it. I mean seriously, fourteen thousand dollars for two seats? What will game seven be like? 18,000 dollars, your first born son, the naming rights to your second child, and three used spoons? Would that be enough for courtside? What would it take to get next to Cuban? I must stop my head is about to explode. I see no sense in any of this).

Random Quick Hit:
I figured that it would be uncouth of me not to mention the following story given the name of this website, so here we go. Last night I was laying in my bed watching a little pre-sleep Southpark. So there I was enjoying my show when I get a phone call from a buddy of mine. Now before I get too far let me say this: I have a few rules in regards to when I talk to other people and when I don't. Late at night I make exceptions for good friends. Also, it was only 11:38 pm which is early for me, so he probably thought I was still up and running about. For those of you who are a bit unfamiliar, let me spell out those rules for you:

1. I do not talk to people or answer my phone early in the morning or while I'm on my way to work. Just ask Drew, he almost got arrested because of this one. I am that unwavering.

2. I do not go to lunch with anyone during a work day. All I want to do is read the sports page and enjoy my tasty sub. I will answer phone calls as these tend to be the most entertaining calls of the day. I think its due to the fact that most people won't try to contact you that early in the day unless there is something that you absolutley can't miss going on. For example, Pat calling me to tell me about a ridiculous episode of Walker, Texas Ranger or Chuck Norris's Karate Kommandos. In fact, anything about Chuck Norris gets bumped to the front of the line. Don't hesitate with those.

3. I do not, under any circumstance, answer my phone before noon on a weekend or holiday. No exceptions. I wasn't even sure life existed at these ungodly hours until about two years ago. I pray you don't ever have to experience the terror that is 10 am on a Saturday.

4. I don't answer my phone late night. Ok, that's a lie. I only answer if I choose to.

And yet, I digress...

So, I get this phone call from my buddy, and the first words out of his mouth are:

Viddy, let me ask you a serious question. When's the last time you shit yourself?

I think I was 0.01 seconds into thinking about what my answer would be before I realized what I was about to be told. I think I burst out in laughter, knowing where the conversation was going while I tried to be supportive. He then tells me of the "Shart of all sharts." I won't go into details, but lets just say he was on the phone with his dad when it happened. I swear, you can't make stuff like this up. After thinking about this I came to a realization, my friends are endless material. What would I do without them?....probably drink by myself a lot more.

p.s. I wrote most of this yesterday, but lost it all due to blogger's gayness. So don't complain that I'm posting things after they've almost lost all relevance.

Jeffrey Strikes Back!
So Jeffrey decided that the Unicycle War was one battle that he would counter my preventative strike with an assault of his own. His attempt didn't come in the form of him wielding a one-wheeled weapon as I thought, but instead it came as him showing me a video to prove the street-cred of unicycles. Check the video out here, of unicyclers doing crazy stunts and basically acting extreme. Too bad his counter attack is my ammo. I say it is this exact reason that I am creeped out and terrified of these guys. They must be stopped before this gets out of hand. Its the calm before the storm. Hold on to something.