Wednesday, June 24, 2009

Top 10 Unseeemly NBA Draft Moments

Hey, I saved a list for FTT, seeing how as it'll wind up making the NBA Haters in the crowd, well, hate. Added benefit: it will also make NBA fans probably hate on me, too. Let's have at it, shall we?

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Not to be a complete killjoy, but you know how so many folks seem to take an uncomfortable joy in Draft Night? Yeah, I think you do. Let's go down the list and, well, try to make this thing a little less minstrelly.

10) Mocking Mom. That big woman over there who's acting like she won the lottery, because her progeny just achieved his ridiculous odds against dream? Let's mock her, especially if her clothing sense is non-traditional, or if she has a weight issue, like 60 percent of the American populace. I bet she's just here for the money. Ha Ha!

9) Haute couture. Did you see the suit on that first round pick? It's like he wants extra attention from the public, or doesn't share the same cultural sensibilities as the majority of the viewers. He must be crazy or stupid!

8) Foreigner bashing. The first person to make a joke about how some guy with a difficult name likes to flop is, by rule, The Funniest Person in the Room. Don't miss out on your chance to be very, very funny!

7) Gay porn overtones. He's long, has good verticality, and a hard body. He's also good in penetration, with range and a handle. We will now giggle like very knowing schoolgirls, because no one has ever thought of porn when listening to NBA scouts discuss the attributes (attributes! I kill me!) of prospects.

6) Hubris. Why on Earth did that team take that guy when I, the reader of at least one draft preview and/or mock draft, and the watcher of a handful of college games at best, clearly know better? This is as bad as those know-nothing referees.

5) Second round second class.
Great White Father Stern can only read so many names, you know. More than that, he can not bear, for the second half of the people names are simply not worthy of his hand in forced photography. All Father Stern decrees it!

4) Green room mockery. See that player over there, whose stock has fallen to the point where he's lost millions of dollars, in a way that would be utterly tragic if it were happening to you or a friend of yours? His misery is funny, really. More funny oh no than funny ha ha, but funny nonetheless.

3) Geographic slams. It's never tiresome to hear about how many NBA players prefer some locations to others, especially if you are one of those unfortunate souls who happen to live in, or root for, the less favored laundry. It's just adorable that the teams in Toronto, Milwaukee and Utah try at all, isn't it?

2) Actual hope. The NBA is kind of amazing for a couple of points. First, that there is a true salary cap that allows small market teams to match contracts; when a team like Indianapolis or Sacramento falls to pieces, it's due to bad management, rather than an inevitable talent drain to the big market teams. But it's also a league where teams that are in the lottery this year are very likely to be in the lottery again next year, because unless they really do catch lightning in a bottle, a good draft or three won't do it. (See Blazers, Trail.) So all of that hope that teams like the Kings, Wolves and Clippers (ha, the Clippers) bring to the table? It's just adorable, really...

1) Deference. 364 days a year, people like Jay Bilas, Chad Forde, Dick Vitale and the late great Stephen A. Smith (what? you mean he's still alive? I demand sock puppetry!) are pelted with rocks and garbage as sideshow freaks. But on Draft Night, the geeks inherit the earth, and we have to somehow give their opinions credence despite all those years of Fail, simply because they're much more likely to effectively lie about seeing Ricky Rubio play. (He's got even more game than Darko!) But don't worry, by the weekend, we'll be back to normal, and they'll be back to getting wedgies in the World Wide Lemur cafeteria. See you again next year, nerds.

1 comment:

Tracer Bullet said...

Honestly, I rather dig Joachim's threads. At least he didn't go with the 11-button jacket that makes everyone look like a no-necked Russian mobster or a particularly iced-out monk as preferred in the NFL.

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