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

All things NBA

Oh my God if you don't like basketball you'll hate this.

Okay, the playoffs are in full motion. The NBA playoffs are a beautiful but imperfect tournament that provides me with dozens of hours of entertainment every year. I love the NBA playoffs more than I do March Madness. Why? Simple: better basketball. People always talk about the atmosphere in March Madness and how it's so great, when really it's so-so, in terms of fan emotion. March madness does have a greater sense of urgency and player emotion, but a lot of that has to do with the fact that we're watching kids out there. The fans are really watered down from regular season play because the student bodies are not as prevalent due to the neutral locations. Meanwhile, NBA fans pack their local stadiums to watch the best players in the world play the best basketball in the world. Sorry kids, that's unbeatable.

I mentioned earlier, though, that the NBA playoffs aren't perfect; they're not. The first round has so much fail-potential. March Madness is perfect for this reason. There's no way you can watch March Madness and not be entertained. In the NBA, however, there's so many chances for less-than-perfection. More teams make it into the NCAA tournament, but there are more games played in the NBA playoffs (15 series', between 4-7 games per series, as opposed to 67 games). So you get to see the teams more, they're better, the games are just as exciting, but it lacks the key that makes March irresistible: the upsets. The NBA playoffs are characteristically predictable, but that doesn't make them less enjoyable.

People watched in amazement as Connecticut and Butler put on an abysmal showing in the NCAA Championship game, shooting a little for a ton on both counts, and presenting a blowout to fans as the lasting memory of a crappy 2010-11 season. Meanwhile, the NBA irons it out to benefit the later rounds, making sure that the NBA Finals are going to figure out the absolute best basketball team in the world.

Each NBA series though is worthy of interest in some form or another. Here's my breakdown of every matchup. (Sigh, said the person still reading for solidarity.)

1. Chicago Bulls v. 8. Indiana Pacers (CHI leads 2-0)
The lovable hometown favorite. I say "lovable" because I love them and so should you. The Bulls function like your favorite superhero, Batman. They have the will, the talent, the gadgets and the swagger to get the job done, but not by making it look easy. Derrick Rose leads the team against an Indiana Pacers squad that aspires to little more than stub Chicago's toe on their way to the next rounds. The Pacers have been a thorn in Chicago's ass, and it shows, as my brother is a panicky mess, worrying about teams like Orlando and Atlanta, let alone Boston or Miami. But the Bulls are designed to win close games. They had less wins by 10+ points (28) than Miami (33), despite winning 4 more games. The Bulls win because Derrick Rose closes the game out like no one in the league right now, and if I'm Indiana, I expect to play like this against Chicago. If the Pacers get a game in Indianapolis, I remain unworried.
Indiana's version of Joakim Noah — Tyler Hansbrough — is proving utterly hatable to everyone but Pacers fans, and the rest of the Pacers are following his scrappy lead. The only advantage held by the Pacers is at center, where Roy Hibbert is too big for Noah to handle. Luol Deng is a reasonable match for Danny Granger, but the real mismatch is at point guard. Derrick Rose is simply too much for the Pacers, and we'll definitely see Chicago advancing within a week or so.

4. Orlando Magic v. 5. Atlanta Hawks (Series TIED 1-1)
This is one of two candidates for playoff series' that don't matter. Orlando made the NBA Finals in 2009, but got beaten handily by Los Angeles and hasn't had as good of a team since. Atlanta, meanwhile, has been a hilariously pathetic team in the  playoffs, getting swept out of the last two postseasons in the second round each time. I wouldn't mind seeing them suffer a similar fate (and frankly, that's possible), but it remains to be seen if they can beat Orlando. The window is closing for this Magic team, and Dwight Howard might want out sooner rather than later if Orlando can't muster a first round win. Atlanta, meanwhile, has held the same nucleus of guys (minus a Mike Bibby or two) for the last three years and has been pathetic in the postseason each time. There window is also closing. Two good teams. Neither of them great. The NBA doesn't want to see either of these teams make a run, so you shouldn't either.

2. Miami Heat v. 7. Philadelphia 76ers (MIA leads 2-0)
The Heat shook off some jitters in Game 1 to overtake Philly, and then dominated them in Game 2. Philadelphia is overmatched in this series, because Philadelphia sucks. They somehow have managed an over-.500 record in the regular season. There prize is to get whupped by the Heat. They might steal a game at home, but I'd put my money on Miami thwomping them twice and making Philadelphia wonder why it can't put Michael Vick on its basketball team (HELLUVA POINT GUARD).

3. Boston Celtics v. 6. New York Knicks (BOS leads 2-0)
Everyone wants this to be a good series, including these two teams. They want to hate each other. They're Boston and New York, they have to hate each other. New York once again has star power (other than Isiah Thomas thank God) with Carmelo Anthony, who will try to take on a real-functioning basketball team with more than just a clusterfuck of stars as we've seen in New York and Miami. Amare, Carmelo and the gang have pretty much asked Boston to become rivals and Boston has responded by just repeatedly beating them in close games. The NBA equivalent of holding the pipsqueek kid back by his head as he swings pathetically under your arm. I think the Knicks can win two games in this series, maybe three even if they hold serve at home, but I definitely don't see them coming back.

That's the Eastern Conference. Here's the West.

1. San Antonio Spurs v. Memphis Grizzlies (Series TIED 1-1)
In the first major upset game of the postseason, the Grizzlies ousted the Manu Ginobili-less Spurs on their home court. The Grizzlies are wonderful, despite the fact that they're from Memphis. I think, personally, that it wouldn't be farfetched for Memphis to upend San Antonio in the first round. San Antonio's old. They're offensively excellent, but defensively lacking and aging faster than wood (which actually holds its age quite well). The Grizzlies are solid all around, and have been on the cusp of the postseason for a few years now. Don't expect them to go quietly. Fuck it, I'm taking the Grizzlies in 6.

4. Oklahoma City Thunder v. Denver Nuggets (OKC leads 2-0)
Fuck this series. I reeeeally like both of these teams. They rank 1 and 2 in my "teams I'm rooting for if the Bulls die in the playoffs" rankings. Denver is No. 1, and this is all because they traded away Melo. They've got ten guys (Felton, Lawson, Afflalo [get healthy!], Smith, Chandler, Gallinari, Martin, Harrington, Anderson, Nene) who I love to watch playing in their too-deep rotation, and none of them are all that damn good. This results in a bunch of dudes trying to be as awesome as possible, akin to the 2007 Warriors that set my heart ablaze all (four of) those years ago.
Meanwhile, the Thunder have this new hipster fanbase that's going crazy because the state of Oklahoma finally has a professional sports team, they've got Kevin Durant and Russell Westbrook, both of whom are tantalizing scorers with swag to match. They've got the scowl in Kendrick Perkins and Serge "I-blocka" (Ibaka) banging in the low post*, add James Harden's awesome playoff beard/mohawk and you've got an equally supercharged team that lights up the scoreboard and burns tons of highlight tape. This series has gone OKC's way so far, but I'd be shocked if it was over before it got back there. I think Denver can stretch it out, but OKC has the advantage and shouldn't fuck it up. Thunder in 6/7.

2. Los Angeles Lakers v. 7. New Orleans Hornets (Series TIED 1-1)
Get outta here. New Orleans is playing their asses off and still got beat by a sorta-trying LA team. I really like New Orleans' heart, and I think they can take a game on their homecourt, but they don't stand a chance against an LA team that so clearly overmatches them. Chris Paul is fantastic, and when he's on, is as fun as anybody to watch. However, the Lakers have too much size, too many 3-point shooters and too many Kobe Bryant's for the Hornets to feasibly win this series. In a lovely underdog story, the Hornets lose Game 7.

3. Dallas Mavericks v. 6. Portland Trailblazers (DAL leads 2-0)
The winner of the "doesn't matter" award, this series is pretty damn boring. Dallas and Portland have no fun rivalry to draw from, no outstanding star players to duel, and no realistic Finals chances for either team.
So why watch this series?
Well, Dirk shoots one of the prettiest slash ugliest jumpers in the world, and watching him is amazing. The Mavericks also have several high-octane energy guys that can make a game fun to watch. The Blazers will try to out-tough the Mavs, and will probably come up short. Having said that, I think this series goes six games before the Mavs run into the buzzsaw that is the LA Lakers.

So, that's what the first round of the playoffs looks like. I am in the process of loving it, and will continue to do so until a champion is crowned in June. Hell yeah.

As for further predictions (because I'm pretty sure Classic Brian would fire me if I wrote another lengthy sports post like this one), I'm just going to say Lakers over Thunder, Bulls over Celtics, Bulls beat the Lakers in the Finals in six games. Derrick Rose will not be denied.

Anyway it's super late and I only got three hours of sleep in the past 40 hours, so I'm gonna work on that.

Sorry this was late.

--Eliot Sill

Brain in a Blender

Today was a long day. I don't know how I'm not dead exhausted. I stayed up til 5 last night. It's good to know my summer disease of not being able to sleep before the sun rises still has potential to kick in at any given moment. At 4, after an hour of tossing and turning and whatnot, I decided there was no way I was getting up at 9 today. I showered. Went to bed at 5, woke up at 9:30, got to class on time. Bam. Time budgeted.

After the fourth or fifth consecutive day of failing to meet my own ultimatum of not having clean clothes, I suppose I should be doing my laundry right now. But alas. MORE IMPORTANT THINGS ARE AT HAND.

Well there are, as is becoming more usual, a few things I want to talk about.

1. I don't want to talk about anything.

Things are overwhelming. There's so much shit to do. Asking me to do it all would be like asking me to not allow for spare time five days out of the seven we decided that God gave us in a week. (Side thought: what if there were eight days in a week? ponder that. holy shit. yeah. that's a longggg time in between football games) Classes are throwing pounds of work on me. Not that many, but it's a lot of work if you want to actually full-ass the classes. Reading books? Chapter of my textbook before every psychology lecture? Kiss my ass, I'll take the B. Add to that the fact that I work for the Daily Illini, our student-run newspaper, albeit not very much. My first story went in this week. A feature on the sport of underwater hockey that dominated two-thirds of the front page of the sports section. That felt good. Also I need to find a work-study job? Fuck, should've went to Lincoln Land.

Oh well, I am realizing that I bit off more than I can chew financially by going here, but I don't care. I have had an amazing time and learned so much about the craft of journalism. It's like training with King Kai. You have to be dead in order to do it, but hot damn you get so much stronger. I'm just waiting for someone else to collect the magic dragonballs and wish me back to life so I can apply this knowledge. Uhhh, oh boy. (That's called taking the analogy all the way, boys and girls) I have met some crazy awesome people. Although I didn't meet half of guest week at my school, I'm still enjoying exploring this sea of individuals that reside in the UC area. Meeting people and making friends is an important task at college. It takes time and (not very much) effort (...for a guy like me) to do this. And school. And extracurriculars. And work. And it takes money. I don't have everything, but I'll make do.

When I sit and think about the hole I'm digging, though I know how worth it is, I reallly just want to turn another cheek and play video games or something. I just don't wanna face it. At least definitely not at once. And definitely not unless you tell me to.

2. Man, some people be on some bullshit

You wanna know why I hate baseball? Because Pete Rose still hasn't gotten in the hall of fame. Gay people get married on the reg, a black dude is our President on the reg, and people buy pot in California legally on the reg. The common theme? Society is changing. Forgive the dude for betting on baseball. Who really cares? He wagered for his team. How much of a crime can it be to put financial interest into winning sporting events? Oh wait, we do that all the time anyway. Pete Rose violated baseball's "cardinal rule" and because of this he's S.O.L. for the rest of his life. That's like when I got in fights with my brothers and to piss them off and land an excruciating blow I would boldly claim "I am NEVER!! EVER!!!! TALKING TO YOU AGAIN!!!!!". Baseball has said this and, like an asshole, is actually following through on their promise. I can't WAIT until Pete Rose dies and baseball finally lets him into the Hall of Fame, out of honor and respect, because I will write a column ripping baseball into a thousand million pieces. I can totally see this happen because in society today, we tend to ignore death as something that's GOING to happen to everyone and that COULD occur between now and the next time you tie your shoe. He's going to die from some stupid alcohol related liver disease, and baseball will finally let him into the Hall of Fame and honor him for what he was when he played, meanwhile he will have died without ever receiving the one call he wanted to hear most in his entire bleeping life.

No that topic isn't relevant to modern society, but the origin of that thought entering my mind was the new hit rules that are sure to ram themselves into the heads of NFL fans as eyesores in the form of yellow flags come flying for new and creative reasons. We've seen new penalties created every year for the last forever years in football, and it's really unnecessary and needs to stop.

Have you ever made up a game? Have you ever started a club? Have you ever been a part of something's beginning? Well the longer that game is played or club exists or thing perpetuates itself, the more you realize that it isn't a flawless system.

The longer something exists, the more it sucks. People do stupid things, or make mistakes, whatever, and rules have to be put in place to prevent people from dying.

It's going on with football today. It's a violent game. They're trying to eliminate violence from the game. You can make the game safe, but it won't be the beautiful game it was before safety was put first. That's why I don't play football, and that's why those who do make millions. Because you play with guys like Ray Lewis and James Harrison, who have to have won every argument they've ever been in by using this face and this face, respectively.

It's going on with government today, as Nick pointed out on Monday. Rules suck. You remember the beginning of things as the hay-day. The first few years, ironing the groundrules out, you spend them editing the things you left out. And then you spend the next part editing in things that may "enhance" the experience. There are a lot of good ideas to improve player safety, but depriving football fans of the shear awesomeness that is caused by glorious destruction such as this. Or this. Why did he have to die so soon? Ahh, I love football. But anyway. You get it. It isn't safe. You aren't going to make it safe and keep the intensity and the beauty.

Do you know who Mitch Albom is? I didn't. Not before today. He's a writer. And he's a damn good one. In 2005, he did something that was hilariously dumb and completely embarrassing. He lead a column of his with a beautiful moment that occurred at a basketball game. Two alumni coming from different corners of the NBA universe brought together to celebrate and rekindle their friendship while watching their team make its first triumphant return to the Final Four. The game was one he never went to. The moment was one that never happened. He was told by two players that they would attend a basketball game together. He made a cutesie lead for a story out of it. They changed plans. He didn't check. He lead his column. He was wrong. He had to apologize. He broke journalism's own "cardinal rule" by telling the public something he didn't know. He won a prestigious award this year for his writing and some asshole wrote a column claiming the guy didn't deserve an award for his work because of something he did five years ago.

Seriously? View a body of work for itself. Not for related bullshit.

Anyway, I'm done talking about that. Haha, even I got kinda bored... uhmm...

Improv.... improv.... improv....... drawin a blank guys, sorry.

VIDEO GAMES. NBA 2k10 is IN at room 112 in Blaisdell Hall.

Classic Brian is no match for my mad Iguodala skills.

I really think sports games get a bad rep. And deservedly so. They're a suckers fettish.

Never have I bought a Madden and said "I bet this will be very good and I will never be mad while playing this!" or "I bet this version will never be improved upon!" or "the replay value of this game will last longer than one year!"

Supposedly NBA 2k11 is a great game. "Sports game of the generation", as IGN calls it. Well I bet 2k12 will be better. I just wish Madden would stop dominating the Players Association so some competition can arise and light a fire under their asses. People have tried to work around this agreement, making games with players that don't actually exist. Each one had an angle that they thought would succeed. None have. But all have come close and had their moment in the sun. All-Pro Football 2k8 (used old "legends" of the game) Blitz (the badass hitting, you know) and Backbreaker (an actual physics engine to alleviate the problem of annoying redundant animations). SOMEONE MAKE A GAME WITH ALL THREE OF THOSE AND COMBINE IT WITH THE PLAYERS ASSOCIATION'S SIGNATURE AND BEAT OUT MADDEN. I WANT A BETTER FOOTBALL GAME. AND OH YEAH MAKE IT SO I DON'T BUY A NEW COPY EVERY YEAR FOR UPDATED ROSTERS AND PLEASE SOMEONE TURN THE CAPS LOCK OFF.

Thanks.

Gosh. I was gassed today guys. Sorry for the lateness and the topical sluttiness.

If you enjoyed it anyway? Then good. That means you like me for who I AM. Not what I write.

Smoothie.

--Eliot Sill