Thursday, June 19, 2008

This Is What It Sounds Like....When Heels Cry

A few random thoughts floating around:

First off, congrats to the Celtics, couldn't be happier for Pierce, Ray Allen, KG, and others. Only the 3rd time in my life that the team I was cheering for in the Finals actually won it. And it's a good thing, too, because we potentially have a very serious Lakers dynasty brewing here. Seriously, all you Kobe haters like myself, brace yourself, the next few years may be rough.

Next off, Fundy (and indirectly Bergman and Cheese), you Tar Heel bastard. We have always played it cool with each other, showing each other respect, through 4 years of living together we barely ever talked shit. I have not uttered one mocking word about the Final Four yet. But, if you're gonna start talking shit about next year's championship that is still 10 months away, well, then.....

Yes, UNC will be amazing next year. Probably the most talented, experienced team we've seen in college basketball since, at the very least, 2004 UCONN, but you could probably go all the way back to the Fab Five or the 1991 UNLV team before you find a team this stacked on paper. Combine that with the lack of any other truly dominant teams next year, and you do have a right to feel good about your boys. BUT....

Here is the tournament history of your senior class, led by the immortal Psycho T.

2006: lose to George Fucking Mason in the 2nd round. We'll excuse that, since they were a team of destiny and your boys were mostly freshman. But still, 3 seed losing to an 11 seed, think about it.

2007: blow a double digit lead to Georgetown in the last 5 minutes, get outscored by like 12 in overtime, miss something like 47 of your last 48 shots to lose in the Elite 8.

2008: get to the Final 4, fall behind 40-12!!!!!!! to KU, make a run, end up losing by like 18, cry a lot in the locker room. 40-12 hahahahahahaaa.

Not exactly what you would call a mentally tough team. What's gonna happen next year when you get to the tourney, and have a game where maybe Psycho T doesn't shoot 19 free throws, and Ellington's shot isn't falling, but he's still shooting every time he touches the ball, and Roy is coaching with a KU sticker on his shirt, and Ty Lawson has been kicked off the team for another drinking citation, and Danny Green's dad has escaped from prison and has wandered on the court like the alcoholic dad in Hoosiers? What then, Fundy? To sort of paraphrase a line from Happy Gilmore: I had one reason for cheering next year: rebuilding. Now I've got a new reason: kicking your ass!


"OHHHHH we're halfway there, WHOOOOAHHHH, LIVIN' ON A PRAYER!!!! You rock my face off, Bon Jovi!!!!"


I saw The Happening last night, the latest M. Night Shyamalan movie. I've read nothing but horrible, awful reviews for this movie, and when the credits began to roll last night, some dude in the back yelled, "I'm gonna slit my fucking wrists, that movie was so fucking bad!" I guess I don't understand the universal hatred of M. Night that seems to be going on these days. I loved Sixth Sense, I think Signs is really, REALLY good, and I thought The Village and Lady in the Water were pretty sweet, too. I admit that the ending to The Happening was pretty weak sauce, but the first hour was creepy as all hell, and overall I love M. Night's movies. Put me in the minority, I guess.

Lately I had found it odd that I missed quite a few calls, but hadn't received a voicemail in weeks, only to be awakened at 3:30 a.m. by the arrival of 12 new voicemails. Some of my favorites include:

Noles yelling something incoherent about how we would be in Vegas soon, then abruptly stopping as it appeared I was calling back....

St. Aubyn yammering on about meeting Jeremy Roenick and telling him about NHL '94...

Jen calling to tell me she was in front of Caesar's Palace eating pizza, shoeless, and asking where her sandals were (answer: in the middle of the strip, and I was currently retrieving them)...

And Dunph, after we got split up in Omaha (and forgetting that I had my own room key), telling me that if I thought I was sleeping in the hotel that night, I would meet him at the craps table on the 2nd floor at the Ameristar, then calling me a fag and hanging up. Good stuff there. Sorry to anyone who left a message the last three weeks and expected a call back.

Finally, the texty of the week, from a number I do not have saved in my phone, I'm pretty sure it's from Noles' little brother:

Who won the Super Bowl in 1967, and what was the score?

Now, in and of itself, that texty is not funny. I get random sports trivia from people all the time, looking to settle bar bets or something like that. What's funny about this is that I received this texty at around midnight when I was in Omaha, when I was so trashed that I wouldn't have been able to tell you who won it in 2008. I wouldn't have been able to tell you my friggin' address if you had asked me. So to answer your question, mystery phone number, the Green Bay Packers defeated the Kansas City Chiefs 35-10.