The 2010-2011 NBA season in review

It started on July 8th with a wave of disgust.

We had been hearing reports throughout day of Miami — a city who already laid claim to two of the league's best — but no word had yet been made official. The king wouldn't want his party pooped, after all. The cities of Miami, Chicago, New York and Cleveland awaited with anticipation, holding their collective breath.


I was at work. I had had it in mind not to get my hopes up, but nothing could stop my heart rate from shooting through the roof. As the night's seventh hour grew older and my productivity level shot through the floor, the anxiety became a petulance. It was no longer fun being strung along like this. After all, he probably wasn't going to choose us. He seemed to be hamming it up for the ratings, a bad sign for Cleveland, which was essentially an entire city watching the televised equivalent of its girlfriend "wanting to talk."


Finally, after a half hour of what has since been verified as bullshit, he uttered those famous words: "This season, I'll be taking my talents to South Beach."


Oh. Great.

In that hour-long television special that was somehow as warranted as it was unnecessary, LeBron James changed the face of the NBA. The league's top dog, instead of the savvy and vicious pitbull known as the Los Angeles Lakers, was now the Cerberus birthed to patrol the grounds of Miami. At this point, we had no evidence to suggest that the threesome of LeBron, Wade and Bosh would actually work. They were anointed as favorites at the moment of their inception by names alone, not play.

It sucked. I felt like I had lost at least three years of my NBA-loving life. It was hard to imagine any scenario in which Miami didn't rule the NBA with an iron fist for years. It'd be cool, you know, if I didn't hate them. They were sure to have a millennium's worth of highlights, all of which would induce momentary excitement followed by bitter disdain.

It wasn't the team's talents that caused anger. It was the contrived and pre-meditated nature of the team's comprisal. The fact that the Big Three cheated the system, taking less money (which we commend) for the purpose of dominating the rest of the league (which we hate). It was the fact that things like this were written months beforehand, the concept of a superduperteam was born, as ominous and seemingly avoidable as a train spotted miles down a track. It was the fact that the recipient of the gift of the most star-studded basketball team in the NBA's history was the city of Miami — a city four years removed from a title, with apathetic fans who enjoy infinite sunshine and beautiful beaches, not to mention some of the country's best nightlife.


The biggest objection I had personally was that LeBron James turned a backstabbing into a spectacular charity event (the proceeds were given to the Boys and Girls Clubs of America). The city of Cleveland needed LeBron more than any other place. They loved and worshiped him. They forgave his failures, and vicariously cherished his achievements. They treated their superstar like a superstar should be treated. And it wasn't even really a backstabbing, because the city of Cleveland was watching. But LeBron wasn't looking at them. It was some kind of weird no-look heartstab. It was televised and self-celebrating, and The Decision was rightfully bashed by the public as distasteful and strange. Never before had a seemingly simple career decision been turned into an hour-long nationally televised special event.


It was that big a deal, though, in hindsight. Contrary to what I anticipated, the world kept turning. The NBA execs didn't stop operations, yell at the Heat for being unfair, and reallocate the players. We were actually going to have a season like this. The Heat continued to make themselves a spectacle. Free agency continued, the Chicago Bulls netted Carlos Boozer, giving them the scoring forward they sorely needed. Joe Johnson did pretty much the exact opposite of LeBron, staying in Atlanta and taking a buttload more money (more per year than any Heat player). 


The NBA had its first true villain in years. The Heat had become what USA basketball is to the rest of the world in international competition; unfairly stacked. The rest of the league braced for impact, contenders made moves to prepare for the oncoming storm. The Lakers, our defending champions and pretty much only team with a target on its back, suddenly became something of an only hope. It would have to be the Lakers to fend off the Heat this year, it seemed like the two teams were on a crash course. The only thing standing between them, it turns out, was the 82 games known as the regular season and a few measly rounds of playoff competition.


•••


Meanwhile, in a warm, dirty gym in Santa Monica, California, Derrick Rose, Kevin Love and Russell Westbrook were busting their asses. Rose and Westbrook were working to ensure their respective teams achieved more than first round playoff exits in the upcoming season, while Love was merely working to provide his franchise with a face. The three of them practiced six days a week, twice a day. Not at all mandatory, the sole incentive of these workouts was for each player to bring out the best in themselves.

The season began with a triumphant bang. In their first quarter together, the Big Three of Miami netted just 8 points, lower than any quarter the LeBron-less, Bosh-less Heat registered last season. Thanks to a pre-season injury to Dwyane (whose mom may or may not be dyslexic?) Wade, the Heat had virtually no time to jell before the season started, so they looked hilariously lost as Boston beat them 88-80. It seemed that there was hope for the rest of the league, so long as Miami didn't get eight points better over the course of the season. Uhh ...

Westbrook and Rose took center stage the following night against each other, and Westbrook's Thunder bested Rose's Boozer-less Bulls by ten points. The Bulls had relatively low expectations, the year was seen as a stepping stone. After all, the management had failed to get a shooting guard in the offseason. What was to be expected of the trio of Keith Bogans, Ronnie Brewer and Kyle Korver? Service by committee, as it turned out.

The Bulls' ambitious new head coach, former Celtics assistant coach Tom Thibodeau brought an extremely defensive mindset to the team, and Chicago became the gold standard for defense in the NBA. Defense has become a sort of novelty in the NBA in the last decade and more since Jordan retired, despite its consistently proven benefits. An intensive defensive focus kept the Bulls in games, leaving it up to D-Rose to win it in the end. This strategy usually worked, obviously.


Derrick Rose is not a shining personality. He isn't a jokester. He doesn't pander to the media (like those punks in Miami). He doesn't have much to pander. He's generally a boring person. Luckily for the world and Derrick, he plays basketball. He plays a lot of basketball. He plays the crap out of basketball, too. He's quick, strong, relatively big-bodied, and damn good. He's got heart. And that's often said about people who know when to give 100%. That isn't what heart is; heart is not knowing when to give 100%. Derrick doesn't know when to give 100%, so he's trying his hardest all the time. Good things happen when Derrick Rose tries, and he was clearly the Most Valuable Player in the regular season this year, and that doesn't change with his less-than-stellar postseason performance.

What many will point to as the biggest weakness that kept Rose's Bulls from reaching the top was the shooting guard position. Kyle Korver can shoot, but he can't defend. Ronnie Brewer can defend and slash, but he can't shoot. Keith Bogans sucks, but can defend and occasionally shoot. If we could combine them into one supershooting guard, we'd have a weak Reggie Miller. But we can't, so we have a merry-go-round of mediocrity. Not truly weak enough to sink the team, but weak enough to keep them from soaring.

The Bulls' second best player, whether they knew it or not going into the season, is Luol Deng. Despite looking very Kenyan, Luol is actually a Brit. A model of consistency, Luol could be counted on to keep his mouth shut, put his head down, keep his man in check on defense, never fear a big shot, and give you 15-25 fluff points a game.

The team's big free agency acquisition, Carlos Boozer, provided the team with an invaluable element.



You see that beautiful and ever-useful blue bottle in the clip? Yeah, that's Carlos Boozer, metaphorically speaking. All last year we had an excuse for not being a top contender; youth and the lack of a scoring big man. We wanted Chris Bosh, which like, thank God we didn't end up with Chris Bosh. But here's hoping you're wondering the connection from Boozer and Michael's Secret Stuff. Well, Carlos Boozer is the league's best placebo-forward. I mean, he can score, he does do that. But did he not miss a large portion of the season, as we trudged to the best record in the NBA? He provided us with an awesome form of false confidence that we would beat people we should beat now. Additionally, we always played up to the level of the top competition. We swept the Miami Heat in the three regular season games we played against them (Impressive, as they are on their way to a title.) In two of those games, we were missing one of our best two bigs. We managed, however, and came out with W's in all three. Apparently this confidence was temporary, maybe we lost it in the first two rounds of the postseason when Boozer showed his unfortunate and presumably true colors? Taj Gibson and Omer Asik (and Kurt Thomas too, yeah) stepped their asses up, prevailing with hustle and that thing we discussed earlier, Heart.


But in the center of this well-oiled machine was the season's biggest secret disappointment; Joakim Noah. Bulls fans love Joakim, other fans think he's a tool. I would too, were I not a Bulls fan. Regardless, he played tough, but he was missing a couple things. First off, health. He was injured for a long stretch in the middle of the season, and played injured for a long time as well. It was his wonderful excuse for lacking the fire and energy Bull-backers are accustomed to seeing from the long-haired and lanky seven-footer. He was occasionally bullied, and he would do something rare for Joakim in certain instances: he would accept it. This was the second thing Joakim lacked — Heart. He wouldn't scrounge and fight like the old Joakim would. Blame it on the new contract, whatever.

Despite their sparse flaws, the team operated on a higher plane than most other teams for the majority of the year. In the last month, we edged past Boston and Miami to earn the top spot in the Eastern Conference playoffs.

•••

Maybe this was another problem. Being favored — we weren't used to it. We didn't handle ourselves like superior playoff teams do, we didn't handle ourselves like underdogs either. We handled ourselves ... differently. Or maybe we didn't handle ourselves at all. We went in without expectations, and so we were oddly hindered, playing, imitating maybe, our opponent. Folks, the Indiana Pacers are not really a good team to imitate. They play feisty above their collective skill level, old-Bulls style. They played us in three close games, a real confidence hit, before we finally lost one. We finished them off in Game Five, but it was a bad five games. Not what you wanted to see from a team you're still trying to trust in the postseason.

Next series, we were surprised to face Atlanta. Things were definitely getting hairy. Not working out the way we Bulls fans were hoping. Unfortunately it was a hope, it wasn't an expectation. The Hawks shocked us in Game One, beating us by ten points. To boot, Derrick Rose muffed his foot on the floor when the game was out of reach with about ten seconds left. A first sign of a first year coach, not taking his go-to guy out in a game that was decided. Confidence was hailing on the city of Chicago, melting away and disappearing beyond recovery. The problem wasn't anything anymore, it was a number of things. Luckily we ran the Hawks out in the next five games (a way more encouraging five games than those it took to dispatch Indy.)  We were on our way to the East Conference Finals.

Had you told me that before the season? "Bullshit," I would have called.

So, we headed into the Conference Finals, not really sure if we could actually beat Miami in a series. Game One eased those worries as we dominated Miami in the second half to win by 21 points. Unfortunately, we lost control of the series in the next game when the Heat erased our homecourt advantage to tie the series at 1-1, and Miami had three games to play at home in the series.

Then the unthinkable happened: Miami reached its full potential. Like Frieza in his final form, the Heat terrorized us and simply became the closest thing to unbeatable that the NBA has seen this year. They didn't particularly blow us out in any given game, but, when the game was in question, it was LeBron's Miami Heat who were the answer, contrasting the regular season matches when Derrick Rose was the answer in the closing minute.

This became hard to watch. A team that had been hated all year long, suffered noticeably because of this hatred, and seemed to not have the answer when it mattered most, was killing us. Watching, you kept expecting the Bulls to dig deeper — deep enough to get a game when they needed it. They didn't.

Most gut-wrenching of all was the Chicago Bulls' last stand in Game Five in the United Center in front of the faithful home fans. The Bulls were up 77-65 with three minutes left. It appeared we had finally bounced back, and we were going to get one. Then Miami unleashed a metaphorical spirit bomb, conjuring the world's energy and turning it into an 18-3 run that left us crushed, windless, and most importantly of all, dead.

83-80. In a shocking comeback. It brought memories back to a regular season game against Atlanta. One in which the Bulls were dominating throughout the first half, up by (I want to say) 17 points, before the team seemingly quit in the second half and gave up the lead for the first time all game with under a minute left. We lost to Atlanta, 83-80. This game was a learning experience for us, we went on a huge tear after the embarrassing defeat. No such opportunity is available this time. We're just dead. Coach of the Year. Most Valuable Player. Best regular season record. Phenomenal team chemistry. Not enough.

You have to revert to the pre-season mindset; this season is a stepping stone. We took a pretty huge step, considering all the awards and winning we experienced. But we aren't a perfect team. It's hard to say whether we're going to be better next year. The youth excuse is no longer relevant. I think the key is to get a shooting guard, someone who can fill out the lineup and allow the trio of shooting guards to take their rightful spots on the bench.

It hurts to lose to the Miami Heat. The No. 1 team we'd rather not see ourselves lose to. And what's worse, we did so timidly. When the final buzzer sounded, we had no choice but to be cordial and respectful. They outplayed us. They beat us. They deserved to win, and we didn't.

Things will be different next year. How? I don't know. But the circumstances will be different. Right now the championship isn't yet decided, and if it's the Heat that will be the most painful thing of all. I really think this year, preseason, my top concern was that Miami not winning, rather than the Bulls winning. Of course, the second goal accomplishes the first, so I was hoping more for that, but I can still consider this NBA season a success if the mighty Heat get taken down. It will be hard for me to watch LeBron tell the haters (aka me) to shut up and that they were wrong. I will do so, but despite the talent advantage being clearly in Miami's favor, that round ball has bounced odder ways before. If Miami plays with a three-man team, they're probably going to lose. Then again, when three of those guys are All-Stars, you stand a pretty good chance no matter what.

So the season is over. We may not yet have a champion, but the Bulls are done. I won't cower away from watching the Finals, and if the Heat win, they will have certainly earned it. But something is definitely at stake, and I don't think there's a single way you can honestly root for the Heat. A monstrous team of Bosh, Wade and James will have their successes. But like every up and coming basketball dynasty, the Heat need to be humbled. You cannot just choose success and have it. You have to earn it.

Dirk Nowitzki lost to the Miami Heat in the 2006 Finals and has been fighting to get back to that point ever since. Future Hall of Famer Jason Kidd made two  NBA Finals with the New Jersey Nets, only to lose to the Lakers and Spurs. He's 38 now and very likely to retire before too long. This past offseason, Nowitzki was a free agent. He was the third most highly sought after free agent behind James and Wade. He could have gone to any number of organizations with diabolic plans for league takeover. Unlike LeBron he stuck to his guns. Unlike Dwyane Wade, he didn't beg and plead for the league's best player to come save him. He and his team have made it back to the Finals at long last, and this is the best shot they'll have to win it all.

I wouldn't pin this Finals as a battle of good and evil, not quite. But as far as building teams is concerned, it's a battle of the right way versus the wrong way. LeBron and D-Wade aren't wrong for wanting to win titles, but they couldn't do it alone so they decided to essentially combine two of the league's top teams into one superforce. Worst of all they're surprised that people don't respect them. I appreciate greatness, but I appreciate even more someone elevating themselves to greatness in order to beat greatness.

If the Mavs can't do it, then it seems as though this summer will be worse than the last, with all the Heatles worship and whatnot. Oh, and don't forget, the NBA will spend this summer trying to figure out a new collective bargaining agreement.

Sigh ... the NBA. It's a love-hate thing.

--Eliot Sill

Sports Post

Well, here we are again.

It's championship weekend in the NFL. After months of trench warfare and bomb passes and ground attacks and defense and blood, sweat, and tears, America's favorite sport prepares to reach a climax.

You will hear me moaning loudly around 5:30 this Sunday, either in destitute sadness or in orgasmic euphoria. That's how much I care about these Green Bay Packers. The same ones that I've watched be ladened with injuries and suffer a dangerous amount of frustrating defeats since September. We have persevered and earned our spot in the NFC championship game. Ahh, the anticipation is killing me.

Rooting interests aside, there are three other teams that have made it to this platform, all three of which have passionate fans that match my intensity and passion. The fact is, the four remaining teams are four of the NFL's upper-eschelon franchises, and serve as a testament that the NFL isn't as "evolved" as we all thought it was.

This season has been one of the more dynamic ones that I can remember, which isn't that crazy, because I can remember like seven seasons vividly. (Apparently the Browns made the playoffs in 2002. How did this happen? How do I not remember this landmark achievement?)

If you remember, we started this season with a very different outlook at who would be in the Super Bowl, and that has changed periodically.

Starting before the season, the Minnesota Vikings had "the look". "The look" is when you see a team and think, "damn, they are headed for the Super Bowl if they play like this." Before the year actually started, Minnesota had everything. Quarterback, running game, able receivers, defensive playmakers, scary special teams, you name it. The Vikings looked like a stout favorite. Then they actually started playing games.

By the fifth week of the season, everybody had a loss on their resume, and the team that boasted the best look about them was Pittsburgh. Pittsburgh, whose only loss was a narrow defeat at the hands of top division rival Baltimore, was 3-1 and scary without the help of their franchise quarterback. Ben Roethlisberger's return would usher in an era of dominance and they would run over opponents from October to the end of January, or so we thought...

The Steelers, who started hot without Ben Roethlisberger, will try to avenge a Week 15 loss to the Jets.

By week 9, the league had a new top dog. The Baltimore Ravens, who themselves boasted "the complete package," were tied for the league's top record. They boasted a blossoming quarterback and a burgeoning group of Pro-Bowl caliber receivers. The return of Ed Reed from injury assured that this team wouldn't lose steam for the rest of the season. But, well, they did.

Shortly after the Ravens reached the top of the dogpile that was the NFL, they were deterred by Matt Ryan and the Atlanta Falcons, in a personal dethroning where Ryan's team drove downfield in the last minute of the game, scoring a touchdown and spurning the Baltimore fans who finally thought it was their year. This validated Atlanta, and they did look like a winner, I saw them take us down in the last minute of a game and stab us in the heart (for which we would get sweet, sweet revenge). Hell, they even had that catchy commercial where they're all on a bus with the kids and bobbing their heads in sync to the music that all of them can inexplicably hear. This team looked like they were having a year to remember.

But they weren't. They faded down the stretch, and New England began dominating fools like it was nobody's business. They thrashed the Jets on national TV 45-3, which is downright embarrilarious. They were playing football the Patriots way, where they nickel and dime you and score every time because Tom Brady's great and they weren't letting you outscore them by causing you to throw on their talented secondary. They had a clear path to the Super Bowl, but the feeling was temporary, as they could not hold on to their dominance, just like everyone else before them.

And thus the Packers inherited the seat of "NFL's top dawg". Destroying the Giants and eeking out Chicago in back-to-back must win games. Then we beat down the NFL's most dangerous offense in Michael Vick and the Philadelphia Eagles (who themselves had a week or two where they looked like the NFL's best team). The Packers then dominated the Atlanta Falcons, sending them off with a spank on the ass in the form of a 48-21 thrashing.

And now we're down to four teams.

A team that certainly has never had "the look," and along with that, much of any respect, is the Chicago Bears. They don't have injuries, they had an easyish schedule, they got a bye and have only beaten Seattle thus far in the playoffs, and so they get slighted as the team who is probably the fourth most worthy of a spot in Championship weekend. This may be true, but only because of the difficult paths the other teams have taken. The New York Jets beat Peyton Manning and Brady back to back, Pitt played a quarter of the season minus their franchise quarterback and beat bitter rival Baltimore to earn a shot at the Super Bowl, and Green Bay, need we go over this again? YES. WE'VE HAD SO MANY INJURIES. WE'VE PLAYED SO MANY GOOD TEAMS. WE ARE THE WORTHIEST.

Side tangent: to those who discredit the self-inclusive "we" of sports fans, go die. We, the fans, invest a ridiculous amount of time into following these teams and expend an inexcusable amount of emotional investment in their successes, we benefit from it not at all; unless we win the Super Bowl. The least you can give us is the privilege of pretending that our passion matters as much as an inclusive "we". I watch every Packers game every week all the time. I would absolutely suit up, were I seven times the athlete and seven inches and seventy pounds greater in mass. But I'm not. God gave me the power to be a fan. So a fan I shall be. And I will not take the shit you give me for caring about my team to the point of senselessly including myself when I talk about our gameplan for the week. Just let me have my "we", Shiffman.

But back to worthiness. Don't discredit the Bears. They're here for a reason. If they win this weekend then there's no doubt left to have, but they earned a first round bye, and they dominated the Seahawks like a superior team should. They've proven doubters wrong all season, and they set out to do it again on Sunday as the underdog against a team that: A-they finished with a better record than, B-they beat in the regular season, and C-are playing at home. The Bears will have a chip–and 65,000 rabid fans–on their shoulder.

And so we're here! Championship Sunday! Winners go to the big game, losers suffer a feeling of depression that they won't forget for years! And honestly, oftentimes the conference championships are more intriguing match-ups than the championships themselves. I don't just mean in football either. Think about it, this theory is proven year in and year out with baseball. Red Sox-Yankees is more exciting than Red Sox-Astros. Part of this is because baseball is stupid and allows, like, a three-week window where teams from different conferences (or in this case, "Leagues") play each other. The sooner they change that, the sooner baseball can become more interesting. There's legitimately no reason to restrict inter-league play. Traditionalists be damned, it's obvious the way you like your baseball is plain boring. In basketball, with the rare exception of Boston-LA in the finals, the conference finals are just more playoff-y. I remember when the Lakers and Pistons were dominating their respective conferences in the early 2000's, it was a rivalry between DET/LA and a player to be named later. For LA- Sacramento, Portland, T'Wolves, San Antonio. For DET- Indiana, Cleveland, Miami. In the NFL, you have the great Colts-Pats match-ups and it's just always a battle. The teams are usually bigger rivals, and that is the central point of this paragraph.

That rings true this season as well. But, in the AFC we had our rivalry games in the Divisional rounds, not that the Jets and Steelers are friends. Well, maybe they are. However, in the NFC, we have an amazing occurence: THE BEARS AND PACKERS. FOR ALL THE MARBLES IN THE NFC. What's more amazing? Is that this never freaking happens. Usually one of these teams is good and the other fades out early. Proof? These teams have never met in the NFC championship game (save for 1941, but that was wayyyy before the current system). This game is the biggest Bears-Packers game yet to date, and it's the rubber game for the two teams after they split the season series. Part of the reason why this is traditionally such a classy and respectful rivalry is because of the see-saw effect these two teams seem to have on each other. No reason to be mad as a Packers fan when you're going 4-12 and against a Bears team destined for 10-6 and they kick your ass. They're the better team and took care of business. And even if an upset occurs, it's still like "Ha! We beat you! We'll be rootin' for you in the playoffs..." because these teams just never make the playoffs at the same time. In my 18 years of life, only 3 times have both teams made the playoffs in the same year, despite the combined 19 playoff appearances by the two teams. This very time is the only time since I've been alive that the two teams PLAYED each other in the playoffs. We may as well be playing this game in hell. Oh wait we are.

The other game, in the AFC, is less enthralling. Jets-Steelers. Who do you want to win? The Steelers. Of course you do, nobody likes the Jets. We don't doubt you Bart Scott, we're sick of you. They have every aspect of unlikability on their side: Fat asshole coach, overpaid star-studded roster with a bunch of championship chasers, quarterback enviable for his celebrity and not his skills, trash talkers, from New York, they are cheaters, and what's worst, they're actually good. The Steelers can't make me hate them no matter how many Super Bowls they win, and I don't know why. They have great fans. James Harrison is a beast. Polamalu does funny hair commercials. Their quarterback may be a rapist. Uhh, erm, maybe that one's not so likable. Hines Ward is one of the most likable guys in the league, given that you aren't playing him on that particular Sunday. And frankly, we just want the Steelers in the Super Bowl to make it more interesting.

Life wishes it could be as important as the Super Bowl.

The possible Super Bowl match-ups have, to me, a distinct order of appeal.

1.Packers-Steelers

Team with most championships versus team with most Super Bowls. Best fan bases in the NFL, playing for a title in the stadium of a team they both hate. Good quarterbacks. They had an unforgettable game last year that ended on a last second Steelers touchdown. An anguishing defeat for Green Bay, but one that stuck with them and I think has helped prepare them for big games like the one on Sunday. A rematch of that caliber will be sublime.

2. Steelers-Bears

This is intriguing because these teams don't have much of a history, but they should. Two of the oldest most historically significant franchises in the NFL, and they have yet to meet in a Super Bowl or a big game. A Bears or Steelers fan may be able to remember a great one, but it would be a great rivalry-establishing game for two of the most respected teams in the league.

3. Packers-Jets

I put this third, not because I'm a Packers fan, but because the teams match up really well. The Aaron Rodgers versus Jets secondary battle will be one to watch, and the Jets star-studded offense that's weak point is the QB would be interesting to see take on a streaky but burning hot Packers D.

4. Bears-Jets

These teams played two or three weeks ago in a high-scoring but mildly entertaining affair. The stakes would be higher and the game would benefit, but this is setting up for a defensive struggle. If it is one, the game will lose interest, if it isn't one, it will be disappointing to the football die-hards like myself. However, if it's a tough defensive game, I would enjoy it (LIES–if the Packers lose this weekend I will hate the Super Bowl.)

This is how the Bears spell sex appeal.

Speaking of defensive battles, this post-season has been a testament to the dirtbags who proclaim "defense wins championships" because they sure as hell have gotten teams to the conference title games. The Jets have a swarming defense. So do the Steelers. So do the Bears. So do the Packers. These teams are equipped with ample offenses, but the teams that boast their offense (Eagles, Falcons, Patriots, Colts) fell short. You need both facets to win in the playoffs. The Bears, this weekend will try to prove that you need all three, because their special teams is vastly superior to ours and if it has its way, the Pack are in deep doo-doo.

Additionally, the offenses can't be pass-happy either. They can be pass oriented, but they need balance. Each game this post-season, the team that has ran the ball more times has won the contest. Now this is also true because you run when you are winning, but still, it shouldn't be ignored. The Packers, whose run game is the most questionable, found their guy (or so it seems) at the right time in rookie James Starks. His performance has allowed the team to outlast Philly and choke out Atlanta.

The emergence of James Starks has fans and teammates alike jumping for joy and dancing.

This game has me sweating through showers and unable to sleep. I'm dazing off in class and unable to watch Dragonball Z with the full attention that I prefer. There is nothing like the conference championships. And as I sit in my oasis of room 112 in a sea of Bears fans here in Champaign, it's so strange to grasp the fact that in the Super Bowl, it's either us or them. If it's not us, it's them. If it's not them, it's us.

Now I won't make picks, because they don't mean shit. But I hope we win. 2007 we got here and lost. If we got here and win I will be guaranteed 2 weeks of prideful euphoria, and if we lose I will be drained of so much. So much. The thing is, it is a game. You can't plan for everything. Especially with the Bears. But if we go out there and wallop them I will be Super Saiyan 3 shooting out Kamehamehas of love and happiness, because we've been here since August. Everything has built up to this. It's time to take the big stage, hold your breath, and go do it. My roommates a Steelers fan, but he has the Super Bowl he won 2 years ago to fall back on if his team goes to shame. Bears and Packers, everything's at stake. All or nothing. I can't stop imagining glorious/disastrous scenarios in my head, but I have all the confidence in the world. It's all about Sunday. At 2 P.M. on that frozen field. Making the biggest plays. Scoring the most points. Winning the game. Earning the right to go to the Super Bowl.

Breathe it in. And bring on the weekend.

--Eliot Sill

My breast implants are hand grenades

Hey folks, it has been a while, hasn't it?

Well over the past couple weeks I've had some time to brainstorm some pretty good ideas for what to write about.

I must've forgotten all of them.

The fact is, I just woke up from a nap that felt damn good as well as damn unproductive. Here at college, every moment I spend not doing things that feel important is a moment that makes me feel like I'm wasting my time. Which is awesome, if you like regretting daily activities and stuff.

Well anyway, I'm not going to do a debate on whether the improv comedy scene in college is more like a competitive sport or a video game. Not yet. In fact, that sentence alone may have been enough to get Allegra to stop reading. But I will include this anecdote about a recent run-in with collegiate improv.

A month or so ago I tried out for the Titanic Players. An improv group important enough to be an intercollegiate group with its own website and multiple troupes that are sub-groups to the whole that is the Titanic Players. They do long-form improv, meaning long scenes focused on character development (my God do they focus on character development) because apparently it's a fool-proof way to be funny. So this was after three auditions turned me down. This was my last audition for the year. I had to do well. And I did. I did do well. I was funny. People laughed when I spoke, which I felt like was a good sign for me. Apparently not, however, as I did not get in to the troupe when they announced who had made it. You know who did make it? Nick Dietrich. Cuz that dude is funny. Also he is good at taking a character and monologuing with said character for an extended period of time.

Anyway, that isn't the point, this is. They encouraged us who didn't make it to e-mail the improv professional who worked auditions and was always willing to give people feedback and see some things we could improve on in the future. I did. I e-mailed him for feedback, anxious to see what I did that led them to scratch me from their list of possible members. Mada didn't e-mail him, because she was frustrated into not caring so much. Or something, I don't REALLY know. Well a couple days later Mada gets an e-mail from the guy. He said she was hilarious and he thinks she should have made it. I don't doubt it one bit, cuz that ho be funny. Dogg. So I didn't, get an e-mail back. Which was cool.

Until three days ago. And do you wanna know what it said? It ranted for three paragraphs that, in picking members for an improv troupe, there are prerequisite things that a troupe like Titanic looks for on a gender and age level. They said that they a decent amount of freshmen and a couple juniors, so sophomores often time get squeezed because they can audition another year. Which sucks, but not for me. I don't get why he told me this. He said there was nothing wrong in particular with my audition, but that I should keep improvising. Also, conveniently for me, he's teaching a six-week class that costs just $100 dollars that should improve my improv skills (okay Carl Weathers). What bullshit. That's it? I waited from September 12 to October 11 for some bullshitty response like that? Cool. I hope your product sells, bud. I told Mada and Nick about it on Facebook and they were also bewildered by the lack of relevance in that e-mail.

Then Mada let me know that she had received the exact same e-mail. Which was weird, because she didn't ask for feedback in the first place, but also had already been e-mailed by the guy.

That is boarshit.

Anyway, that's not even what this muhh fucka about! I gots mo' to say! (what, what!)

I will proceed to rant about five TV shows that I adore (none of which are It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia).

1. Arrested Development

Greatest cast ever assembled for a tv show? My vote says "YEA".

Okay, let's just say if you haven't seen this show then you're missing out on some respect that I could have for your comedic tastes. It is hilarious to an obnoxious degree. The show is funny from every angle, the characters, the quips, the editing, the recurring jokes (my God the recurring jokes), the plot points, and even lands some points for pun humor (solid as a rock!).

This show was cancelled on Fox after three (2.5, really) seasons that were loaded with critical acclaim and stark commentary from the show's followers. There was just one problem, as a week-to-week show, AD doesn't work as well. Simply because you have a week to forget all the hilarious subtleties that you get from watching 6 episodes back to back. The show builds on itself like nothing I've ever seen. It has yet to be paralleled or even approached by another show in terms of its hilarity. If you haven't already, watch this fucking show. It will make you a happier, smarter person. Plus you'll know that I'm joking when I wear cut-off jeans and refuse to take all of my clothes off at any time.

2. Community

This show is for real. It's new, just beginning its second season. It's got a great blend of characters that aren't typical of American TV. It's main protagonist, Jeff Winger (played by Joel McHale, that guy from The Soup who I promise is funny) is a hotshot asshole lawyer who has to go to community college because his law degree that he got at Columbia wasn't legitimate. Apparently he had to get on in America too. Not to mention the great Chevy Chase and hilarious Donald Glover and whoever the hell plays Abed. With a couple nice slampieces (most disrespectful word ever? I think so) and other quirky and original characters, this show has plenty to offer in terms of entertainment value. Watch it on NBC Tuesdays at like 8 or something. You'll laugh your heart off. This show has a lot of potential.

Plus where else can you get this kind of gold?

3. Scrubs

This show. My first love. My first girlfriend. My favorite toy. My best friend. I started watching freshman year of high school (when it got syndicated onto Comedy Central, like everyone else). With two episodes on per day I was able to watch ten episodes in a week. Then WGN and CW got Scrubs syndicated to their networks and I was able to watch four to six episodes of Scrubs every day. That is why I didn't do well in school for a while.

More than bromance, this is guy love.

The characters in this show are great. Quirky and dynamic, at least for a while. This series produced five or so great seasons of hilarious and interesting comedic gold laced with drama and emotional ups and downs that were bearable due to the supplementary amount of comedy. Eventually the show tilted more toward the dramatic and unrealistic, and it spiraled into a parody of itself. Like many shows (Curb Your Enthusiasm, The Office, It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia) its characters began developing into their niches instead of in a realistic manner. That's hard to do as a series. I don't really know what examples I could think of other than the first half of this show. Watching Turk and J.D. grow and develop was oh so adorable. That show brings waves upon waves of nostalgia when I see it on TV nowadays because its one of the only shows of which I've seen every episode. Scrubs, I love you, and I'll always be there for you.

4. Dragonball Z

Say what you want about this show. You're probably right. It does spend hours over the course of the series cliffhanging and affirming things that anyone who is over the age of 12 can understand the first (or second, third or hopefully fourth) time around. It does have several episodes where it is hard to point out a substantial thing that happened. Also it's a cartoon for nine-year olds. BUT DON'T TELL ME IT ISN'T BADASS. Watching seasons at a time is great because it's basically a nine hour movie that builds to a climax that is so awesome because of how much was invested into it. I already made a whole post about this show, so I won't go on forever. But, I will re-mention this because it is so true that it's worth mentioning again.

Don't fuck with this kid. He's eleven.

Goku is the purest form of good I have ever seen. As a pure heart, he is flawless. He seriously, in my mind, sets the bar for a perfect soul. He is as happy-go-lucky as can be. He is everyone's friend. He is impossible to hate, unless he stands in-between you and universal domination. He turns down being wished back from the dead in order to keep the planet safe. He has instilled this gene into his son, Gohan who has it to an amplified degree. Gohan is like his dad in his happy-go-lucky nature, he's more studious than I. But he has a ticking point where if you hurt his friends, he fucking snaps. He doesn't just snap, he fucking snaps. As in, if he's getting his ass kicked, suddenly he goes Super Saiyan 2 and starts chopping the heads off of galactically powerful impish (annoying) fuckers. It is especially awesome to watch if you've seen him struggle for the last 35 episodes with the concept of self-belief and doubting whether he can handle the weight of being in-between the bad guys and world destruction. I would go gay for Gohan. And Dee Brown. Let's stop this list here.

5. South Park

This show is fucking hilarious. Matt Stone and Trey Parker are geniuses. I can never appreciate this show enough. On its umpteenth season and still going strong, I am just now starting to grasp how consistently hilarious this show is. It was never a show I got addicted to or anything, but it's a show that, every time I watched it, I'd laugh my ass off. South Park is worthy of watching every episode but, like Scrubs, it isn't worthy of owning. Simply because you don't need to. Anytime I feel like watching South Park, it's on. Comedy Central shows it all the time because of how great it is. Also the CW is now showing episodes, so there's another outlet for you to see it. Not to mention that, like all tv shows, you can find it online if you're smart at all.

Anyway I just had to mention that, since I've been cramped up here in this dorm, I've been watching a lot more South Park, and it's always really funny.

The wackiest of hijinxes

The thing about TV is that it's always a waste of time. I just am happy to say I've found five of the least self-loathement inducing (there's gotta be a better way to word that) methods to watching television. My number one piece of advice: pick your shows, and stick with them. There isn't enough time in a day to watch everything good on television. Leave room for expansion, but by golly not much. And for the love of God don't waste your time watching Jersey Shore. Those shows literally make you dumber.

Anyway I don't have a witty comment or good way to end this post. So I'll just end it like a Skype call. Those always end so underwhelmingly. I don't know why but everytime I hang up a Skype call I fee like so much has been taken from me too quickly. It's so abrupt. I don't feel that way with phone calls or chat messaging. Hm.

--Eliot Sill

Childhood Obsessions Part Eliot: Dragonball Z

Go ahead, reader. Narrate the following pic for me, insert a quip if you will.























If you said "AAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHH!H!H!H!H!H!HH!H!H!H!H!H!!!!!!!" then you narrated correctly. The fellow pictured above is named Broly. He's a bad guy, and he could kick you, me, your dad, and our planet's ass in about four seconds. But you know who's ass he can't kick? Kakarot. Kakarot is the Saiyan name of one of my all time favorite heroes, Goku.

Goku lives in the realm of Dragonball Z. Where fighting is about as necessary as water. The cartoon supposedly takes place on planet earth, but it is clearly a caricatured version of our modern society. This cartoon had me glued to my television every day at varying times, switching from 4 P.M. to 5 P.M., 6 P.M. sometimes even 9 P.M. Regardless, I loved this show. Like Brendan's Harry Potter or Nick's Squirtle, my childhood idol was Goku. He didn't have a last name. Last names are for bitches.

There's my guy. Ahh, what a dude. First off, Goku is absolutely incorruptible. He has literally turned down galaxies for the sake of the community. He has sacrificed his life and his well-being many a time for the sake of his friend's comfort and safety. He would take more than a bullet for a buddy, he would take a death beam. Goku embodies the purest form of good. He holds himself to a higher standard of justice than one could possibly fathom. If his death is in his son's best interests, you better believe he's going to do it.







You may be asking yourself, "how does one die as many times as you've referenced Goku sacrificing his life to do so?" ...or something like that. Allow me introduce to you the concept of fiction. Dragonball Z is, at its core, based around the premise of seven magical balls (numbered 1-7 by how many stars they have) that, when collected and held in close proximity of one another, allow for the possessor to summon the baddest assest dragon of ALL TIME. He has a voice that would make James Earl Jones sound like Rosanne and can grant you, depending on which planet he is from, one or three wishes. Often times these wishes get used to wish people back from the dead (given that they didn't die of natural causes). So if Goku wants to go and get killed by Cell, he can do so with the hopes of later returning to glory after his friends collect the seven dragon balls. This shit sounds great, right? Well, evil and wayward entities try to have their own wishes granted. Immortality, all the power in the universe, and wealth are most wanted items. Enter Goku and his friends, dubbed "the Z fighters" by the awesomely intense voice-over guy who begins and ends each episode. The Z fighters have to foil their evil plans, usually by killing them, and restore order to the world.

Goku and co. have fought off three members of an ancient warrior race, a fighting team that was goofy beyond belief, their master, a couple crazy robots, an alien creation, and a bigass piece of bubble gum.

The most memorable of all of these villains was Frieza. The one i described as "their master". Why? Because I was ripe in age when he was fighting everybody, and furthermore, that dude was bad. How bad? Wiping out races and planets in mere minutes bad. Showing no regard for life of any kind as he expanded his empire at the same speed he could expand a huge energy blast. Peaceful takeover was out of the question, this creature was out for blood. Frieza came in with a legendary laundry list of heads he had accumulated over the years, and planned on adding to that when visiting the small planet of Namek.

Enter our hero Goku, and his friends, after dispatching the Ginyu Force (those quirky punks linked above) Goku was in bad shape, and was put it in a recovery pod similar to the ones seen in Storm Troopers and Resident Evil: Apocalypse. He was out of commission for a while, but his friends (including his lil son) had to fight off the most badass killing machine the universe had ever seen. After recently re-watching this fantastic saga, I addressed the burning need to check my twelve year old self with my current personality. The shit checks out, I loved the series.

Many a fan's biggest gripe with the series is that nothing ever happens in any of the episodes and that the series is just one cliffhanger after another. Admittedly, they do stretch a bout with one monster over the course of 33 episodes, but there's more to it than that. It's about surviving the iron fist that is Frieza long enough to be rescued by Goku. And the episodes themselves are actually fairly entertaining, despite their being little significant story progression.

When Goku does finally recoup and comes to face his Frieza, something amazing happens. Dragonball Z manages to take the most evil thing in the world and pit it against the most pure and goodhearted thing in the world, and have them fight each other to the death for supremacy. Unlike in Star Wars, another classic good v. evil tale, Frieza doesn't turn cheek. He doesn't spare anybody. He is all-powerful, mighty, hateful, and cocky about it at that. Goku tries several times to teach him the error of his ways but it's clear that the alien can't learn a damn thing. It ends up that Goku has to kill this evil monstrosity with his bare hands. He doesn't but he finds a clever way to get the job done.

As a kid, I paralleled every battle in my life to this saga. My side was Goku, their side was Frieza. Packers? Goku. Bulls? Goku. John Kerry? Goku. President Bush? Frieza. Minnesota Vikings? Frieza. My mom when I argue with her? Frieza. My mom when I argue with my brothers? Goku. Led Zeppelin? Goku. AC/DC? Frieza. The battle was long and epic. The combatants kept pushing themselves to higher power levels (one million!?) until they finally ended up becoming so strong and the force of their clashes so immense that they literally tore the planet apart just by beating each other up on it. The whole show is so hyperbolic. Everything is assumed to be at the grandest of scales. One punch from Goku could probably knock over the Sears (not Willis) Tower. Also they can fly, so, just get over that now.

This show was everything you wanted to be as a kid growing up. Powerful, strong, you could fly, you could shoot energy blasts with your bare hands. Plus you were Goku. You were good. You had a wife and kids and everybody looked up to you you were the best most wonderful most nicest thing in the whole entire universe. That was your goal. If you found seven dragon balls you could wish for anything in the world that you wanted! Probably a million dollars. Maybe more, if it exists. Plus they bled and they got beat up and it wasn't like Pokemon where they just got a sad face and were called back to their ball. They fucking died! Yeah, they could get wished back, but Frieza literally exploded Goku's best friend! Like as if he were in a microwave. How cool is that? This shit was serious.

Watching it now, it obviously isn't the same. I've long given up my dream of being Gohan and I will never get the chance to meet Trunks with his badass purple hair. But still I watch it, for what I'd like to believe was more than nostalgia. Because it goes back to the basics. Good versus evil. And that, with enough willpower and hard work, you can prevail over any asshole that stands in your way.

So that was my childhood niche. Watching galactic powers compete for shiny balls and eternal life. But, hopefully, there was something more to be learned.

--Eliot Sill

PS-Why in the fuck would I make a post about Dragonball Z and not include this guy?

























I LOVE YOU PICCOLO!

Piccolo was a Namekian, native to the planet Namek. They were all green like this and they got murdered by Frieza. Luckily they were wished back however. So Star Wars has Ewoks, DBZ has Namekians, like Piccolo. Now if only they could have a baby...