Before we made the trek to the arena, however, we decided to take a little Basketball 101 refresher course, courtesy of a local North Portland community center.
I'm not ashamed (okay, so I'm a little ashamed...) to say that after approximately four minutes of full-court play, I felt like I was going to puke up my liver right there on the court. Remind me to never, EVER do something that stupid again.
One amusing side note: Being from little old southern Oregon, I rarely, if ever, am afforded the opportunity to play basketball against somebody who isn't white. When I walked into that gym and noticed that Andrew and I were the only two white dudes in there, for some reason, the first thing that popped into my head was that RIDICULOUS basketball scene in "American History X."
I'm still laughing to myself about that one. Oh, and in case you were wondering, neither of the games I played in ended with the phoniest-looking dunk in the history of humankind. Seriously, how could they think we wouldn't notice that Ed Norton sucks at basketball? He's awful. He's got one move: that cartoony, behind-the-back, scooper-duper lay-in.
I'm sorry, I know it's a movie, but I refuse to believe that little old ED NORTON is going to walk onto a Venice Beach court, ICE COLD OFF THE BENCH, and take over the game like that. Never in a million years. Never happening.Hmmm, this is sort of inspiring me to do a "most implausible sports scenes" list. Well, something for all seven of you readers to look forward to, huh?
Random thoughts from the 300 level:
- As soon as I found my seat, the jumbotron erupted with a familiar sound: "Baba O'Riley" by The Who. As my eyes darted to the unavoidably large monitor above the playing surface, I was thrilled to find a slick highlight of Brandon mesmerizing all in attendance. Naturally, my knee-jerk reaction was to jolt toward the beautiful orgy of sounds and colors. Andrew, you will never know how close I came to spilling your beer all over your crotch and crotch-related body parts.
- For some reason, the powers at be allowed one of the Blazerdancers to sing the national anthem tonight. Nothing personal, Ione (pronounced Eye-Own-E, apparently), but don't quit your day job. By the way, is it really necessary to have cheerleaders at pro sporting events? Do we really need T&A EVERYWHERE AT ALL TIMES?
Look, I watch basketball to watch basketball. I watch fights to watch fights. If I want to watch attractive young women shake that groove thang, I'll head to the Bada Bing, OK?
But it's not just the scantily clad ladies that cheapen the experience. It's the jumbotron, too (cool Roy HL notwithstanding). And it's the stupid contests that fans are made to watch during every single timeout. Example:
Between the first and second quarters tonight, we had to suffer through four jackasses in sumo suits living out their Superbowl fantasies with Blaze as all-time QB. In case you're curious, the jackasses representing Arizona won on a miraculous last-second touchdown pass. Oh, what's that? You couldn't care less about that stupid crap? You simply wanted to watch your team without having your intelligence insulted? Well, bad news, friends. The time of spending timeouts talking about the actual BASKETBALL GAME you're attending is long gone. Shame on you, NBA, for treating your fans like eight-year-olds in a Toys 'R' Us.
- OK, never mind, NBA. I get it, now. I understand why you do put on these ridiculous spectacles during the game.
Case in point: the jerk sitting behind me. I'm 100 percent positive that he is the biggest douche bag of the modern era. Yes, he even beats out Dmitri. Seriously, this guy sounded like he was about to wet himself when they started launching free T-shirts into the crowd.
But that's not all, my friends. Oh, no. The good Lord decided he was going to bless us even further by taking one of DoucheAss McBallsFace's ribs and creating THE DUMBEST WOMAN OF ALL TIME. Turns out DoucheAss is one of those guys who follows a team JUST enough so that he can feel superior to somebody who doesn't follow sports at all. Or, in this particular instance, so that he can show off his deep understanding of the game by naming most everybody on our roster to some Mentally Retarded Female.
I about lost it when I heard the MRF say (and this is a direct quote), "Ohhh, they have TWO guys from Spain??? NEAT!" Naturally, Douchey Howser, M.D. had something smart to say about the eclecticism of our talent pool, and naturally, Ugly Paris Hilton back there was like, SOOOOOOO impressed. It took all of my self-control to resist taking a swing at these two. They made Donnie and Marie look like Will and Amy.
Oh, and did I mention that after being invited to a most attractive young lady's apartment after the game, I somehow managed to crap the bed (figuratively, you smartasses) and screw the whole thing up?
I should probably just start smoking again.
- Up until the second quarter, I thought I had another jerk on my hands, this time sitting to my left. He opened the game by saying how Sergio was going to get "abused" by Deron Williams all night. I decided that such insolence would not stand and immediately delivered an impassioned speech about how much I love Sergio.
Yes, I love Sergio more than Bayless. Just--I DON'T WANT TO HERE IT RIGHT NOW, OKAY???? IT'S BEEN A LONG FREAKING NIGHT. I'll tell you about it later. Just...shut up for a second.
Anyway, as I was saying, dude starts hating on my man Serge just as they jump it up. First play of the game, Sergio nabs a steal. Next possession, he scores a quick two off some beautiful penetration into the lane. I emphasized my delight regarding both plays by screaming "YOU KNOW SERGIO?!!!" as loud as humanly possible in the direction of this naysayer. Though he wasn't wearing any Jazz gear, at that point I was fairly certain he was a BYU alum incognito.
Turns out, he was actually a pretty cool guy. He was just nervous because he had money on the game. The Blazers were giving 9 1/2 points to the road-weary Jazz, and I asked which way he bet. At first, he told me he was taking the points, to which I replied, "shame on you." Realizing his error, he quickly corrected himself and informed me that he was a Blazers fan and was in fact laying the points. He thought Sergio was too carefree with the ball and felt much more comfortable with Bayless running the point. Although I disagreed with his assessment, we gained each other's respect and went on to enjoy the game together as fellow maniacs, rooting not only for a victory, but also for a win by at least 10 points so homie would get paid.
Actually, I would say that this guy had a gambling problem if he wasn't so freaking good at it. Here's his betting record (at least, as much of it as we talked about):
1) He bet Pittsburgh to win the AFC at the beginning of the season at 5:1. Cha-ching.
Using those winnings, he made these bets and won all three:
2) Blazers to beat the spread vs. Jazz (Obviously we know what happened there)
3) Washington to cover against favorite ASU (UW won outright)
4) University of Portland to cover against #18 St. Mary's (UP won outright thanks to St. Mary's losing its best player the night before against Gonzaga.)
So, basically, this dude is a machine right now. I was THIS CLOSE to asking for his phone number so I could get his expert picks every week.
I mean, not that I, an NBA EXPERT in my own right, would actually even need any help in picking winners or anything. I just, thought, you know, it'd be fun to, um, compare notes, and... shut up.
Halftime highlights:
- Some jackass threw up a one-handed Hail Mary from half court to win a pickup. You can guess how that ended.
- Some high school cheerleaders were going to do a dance or something, but me and Andrew decided that making an exit to pay six bucks for a soda pop was a much, much better option than sitting through that s---. So, um, there you go. Halftime! Wooooo!
Random game-related highlights:
- Dick Bavetta is even more hilarious in person than he is on TV. Given two adjectives to describe Ol' ShrivelPuss, I would choose "demonstrative" and "lively."
- David Banner was at the game. So, you know...holla. Is that what the kids are saying nowadays? It changes so fast.
- Every time we gave the ball to Travis in isolation in the second half, my bud Andrew looked liked his jugular might explode from the sheer stress. His take on this particular offensive strategy: "God, man. It's like a heart attack on a plate." Whatever that means, I don't think it's good.
- We as a fan base care FAR too much about receiving free Chalupa coupons. I swear, we were sitting on 98 points for about four possessions, mostly due to the incessant chanting of CHA-LU-PAS! CHA-LU-PAS! It's just a damned flat-bread taco, people. Get over it.
Best moment of the night:
This one is a tie. Both moments were equally entertaining.
1) As a joke, the director threw up a shot of Brevin Knight and Matt Harpring on the jumbotron Kiss Cam. Fighting through his hearty chuckles, Brevin reached over and planted one on the temple of an oblivious Harpring. Both of these guys get style points in my book for being good sports, especially Brevin. It's fun to see guys in pro sports who don't take themselves serious enough to be offended by a harmless practical joke. Well done, guys.
2) Two smoking hot ladies in the crowd were holding up a sign featuring Rudy's face pasted onto a robed, duel lightsaber-wielding badass with text reading "Rudy is a Jedi."
I'll give you guys a second to let that sink in.
Final non-Blazer thoughts from a tremendous sports weekend:
- What. A. Superbowl.
It's a shame that Ol' Graybeard couldn't get it done. But what can I say? Real life sucks.
Larry Fitzgerald, you're a man. Respect.
Santonio Holmes, that was one of the greatest catches I've ever seen. Pro ball, college ball, my back yard, anywhere. You should have that ball bronzed, brother.
I still hate "Ben."
I wish my 49ers were better.
- Rafael Nadal is a freak.
If you didn't watch that five-set, Nadal/Federer Aussie Open final at 4am like I did, you missed out, fool. Rafa's going to win at least three more consecutive French Opens and at least one of the other majors in each of those years. I'm sure he'll get at least one US Open, making him the first man to win the Slam since Andre (I think). The only question about this guy is how long can he endure the punishment his style of play inflicts on his body. Time will tell, but in my opinion, Nadal's biggest competition from here on out is Father Time (no disrespect to Fed).
Did I mention that I'm basically nocturnal now?
- Georges St. Pierre is another freak.
Honestly, GSP has exceeded all my expectations. When he beat Matt Hughes in their rematch, I said that he'd hold on to that title for as long as he wanted to keep fighting. A mental lapse against heavy underdog Matt Serra cost him his title and stamped him with the unfair and inaccurate label of "mentally weak."
After watching what he did to current lightweight and former welterweight king BJ Penn at UFC 94 this Saturday, I don't know if we'll ever see GSP lose again. My prediction for the next year: he'll take Thiago Alves down and either TKO or submit him. Then he'll move up to 185 and have a superfight with my boy, middleweight champion Anderson Silva. He'll take Anderson down and grind out a five-round decision, much to my chagrin. After that? Who knows. But I don't see anybody at 170 or 185 touching GSP until he either A) gets old or B) gets injured.
Well, that's it, maniacs. I'm out of here. Get geared up to take some names in the Big Easy.
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