the nba, live !

and so the nba finals hooplah begins. it was tragic (tragic!) that i had to stay away from my facebook homepage for a grueling three hours but i simply couldn't take the constant "let's go celtics!" or "let's get it la!" statuses which were always followed by a series of obscene comments from the opposite team's supporters telling so-and-so to suck this and go fuck that, shove that there and kiss this over here. it was daunting. rivalries are supposed to promote healthy competition, so why can't we all just play nice and stop bringing mothers into the debate (if mama lebron wants to get her groove back it's none of your business!) and stop resorting to blaming unattractiveness for poor athletic performance (but do feel free to say pierce missed some open threes because he still has morning crust in his eyes... i mean, the dude always looks like a homeless man that doesn't get a chance to wash his face when he wakes up). but i'm not here to comment on the athletics, not on the scores, the stats, the skills, none of that.

my favorite part about watching basketball games would have to be the theatrics that takes place on the court. it is usually assumed that athletes make for terrible actors (see any charles barkley or dwight howard commercial for further explanation) but the intensity of the facial expressions, the raw emotion and the gracefulness of the "flops" i see while watching these games makes me think differently. some of these men are naturals. the best thing about the celtics? easy - ray allen's stank-faced gum chewing. i can almost taste the gum losing its flavor as it transforms into a nasty ass sand-like texture from my couch at home. what makes my spine tingle during these nerve-wrecking showdowns? that hideous close-up of pau gasol that they always insist on getting when he's anticipating his oncoming opposers at the other end of the court. the way his lip droops and the way that wet mop just sags down onto his forehead, man, i feel that ugly creeping from the depths of his bones into mine. i'm telling you, the acting is amazing. those "flops," comedy. paul pierce is on his back more than a video ho trying to get a modeling contract (oooh, too much? too much.) and watching nate robinson scurry across the court, chanting and fist pumping makes me giggle. it's like watching that irritating five-foot-five hypeman flail around on stage at a rap concert. you know, the one that gets bold from time to time and steps to the front of the stage, a little too close to the spotlight but no one stops him because, let's face it, he's a part of the crew too, the poor guy's got to get some kind of shine, right? and with perkins and artest in the building that action-packed fight scene is bound to break out at any given moment. to hell with those championship rings, let's get these fellas some oscars or some emmys or something... i'm just saying.