F*ck you David Stern. F*ck you for caring more about your league’s image then about the level of it’s play. F*ck you for being too cowardly to admit that always interpreting this rule by the letter of the law was incredibly foolish and a mistake. F*ck you for allowing other rules to be interpreted subjectively, but not allowing the same treatment for this rule. Also, f*ck you for being to much of a va-jay-jay to show up in Phoenix tonight to take your (verbal) beating like a man. F*ck the NBA for once again ruining a great playoff series and being too stubborn to admit fault. F*ck me for caring for too much about a game that I have no actual impact on. And finally, f*ck me again for not giving up on the NBA after this debacle.
So I was going to write a full blown, essay-length blog on this incident, but I didn’t have the time. You see when you do absolutely nothing all day, like I do, it’s hard to find the time to accomplish even the simplest of tasks. For instance, in order to have fully and satisfactorily written about the suspensions handed down in the Suns-Spurs series I would have had to make time to do so. And what, preytell, could I have cut out?
- The two hours after I woke up that I laid in bed and played my Ukulele? Not likely, seeing as how that relaxes and prepares me to face the day*.
- The hour I spent reading the paper and debating whether or not I should do the dishes I had left from last night? I couldn’t have cut this out, it was the busiest part of my day. I was multi tasking.
- The 15 minutes I walked my dogs and then decided that it was way too hot to be outside? Ok maybe this, but 15 minutes wouldn’t have been enough.
- The hour I spent simulating game on MVP Baseball 2005 in order to get to the playoffs? Not a chance. That sh*ts a priority these days.
- How about the hour and a half in which I went to lunch with my brother? Again, no. Blood is thicker then water.
By the time I got home from lunch PTI was on and I still had dishes to do. So really, I had no time to write. So instead I just decided to give you the extremely shortened version of what I would have written. I left out some really great stuff, like how this is a direct result of the media bias. Thanks to the media labeling basketball players as thugs when they fight, all the while claiming its part of the game anytime a players from any other sports fights. And because of this bias the NBA always overreacts anytime there’s even the slightest of skirmishes. I also was going talk about how dangerous a precedent Stern is setting by allowing the team that deliberately delivers cheap shots can benefit from doing so. I think I also left out some anti-Semitic remarks about Stern, which is probably a good thing.
I could have literally written at least ten pages about this, I was that angry. Especially after the “it’s not about fairness, it’s about correctness” line from Stu Jackson. Really, so you’d rather uphold a stupid rule then allow the players to decide a series? Or after David Stern came off like the most condescending prick ever on the Dan Patrick Show and tried to pass the blame onto the owners and the Suns coaching staff. But, as I’ve already mentioned, other things got in the way of me doing this. So all I really had time left to write was an expletive filled rant and a brief explanation of that rant.
What kills me the most about all of this, is that the people who are going to be the most pissed off by this, i.e. true basketball fans, are the ones who won’t do anything about it. I’m so infuriated that I want to boycott the NBA, but I love basketball too much to do that. If anything, Stern has made more casual fans interested in this game with this ruling. He knows that the people who are most pissed off and most affected by this will always be back. But my ruling this he guarantees his league more press and more casual viewers. So really it’s a smart business move, just an incredibly f*cked up and heartless one. I could go on, but in all likelihood I’d never stop. And I have to go do my dishes anyway.
Until We Meet Again
* And no, playing my ukulele is not a euphemism for masturbation.
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