The initiation wasn't over.
Last Sunday, that annoying screech prompting an announcement of the emergency broadcast system - the one that's always a warning back in Massachusetts - went off again, about an hour after I took a walk.
It's a good thing I went when I did.
We had more tornadic activity heading to the metro from the northwest. Though that dissipated, all hail was breaking loose and heading our way.
I was able to take my friend Gina's covered parking spot, which saved my car from looking something like an uneven golf ball, but within minutes the weather went from grim to destructive, as captured by these guys.
When it was all said and done, these bad boys were left. Several bigger than golf balls, all capable of doing damage to windows, cars and people, just ask this unfortunate guy.
Several back windows were smashed out completely, many windshields broken too.
I escaped with relatively minor damage thanks to the covered parking, but a couple pieces of hail sniped my right tail light. Now I get to take part in my most favorite activity since flossing, filing an insurance claim.
Good times.
- In other news, I'm still not ready to talk about the Boston Bruins. Give me another week and I'll try to sum up what this offseason will look like. Not now.
- The NBA Draft Lottery was last night and, as seems to be the case every year, the worst teams got screwed. Seriously, the NBA should just pull the ping pong balls right in front of all of us. I know they like the whole drama of the reverse countdown thing, but a little transparency would be appreciated. No need to fuel the conspiracy theorists.
- I spent a lot of time looking at the new fall lineups for the networks. Some good looking shows, but I'll save that for another time. Until then, I'll have to enjoy the final two episodes of 24, which will air next week.
- Last, I just found this list of service members who've died in and around Afghanistan. The number just raised over 1,000. It is truly staggering to look at. One of the few times when pagination would actually do this list a disservice. It's still a shame that we're resorting to these methods as human beings, but that will never change.
Rumble the mascot debuted in Oklahoma City last night to...confused reactions.
But, it did lead to some funny reviews today. Josh Elliot championed him "Teen Wolf" on Sportscenter. Any reference to Jason Bateman is fine by me.
The Thunder mascot also spawned some pretty hilarious articles today. Deadspin and the Sporting News were among those who weighed in.
Check it out...don't blink or you might miss various bison-related basketballing.
With the job market the way it is, how could a mascot be hired if he can't even dunk? Even Teen Wolf could dunk! Ohh well...at least this didn't happen to the lightning-struck, lonely, drum-playing bison-man-mascot.
That happened at the NBA All-Star festivities last weekend...poor Bango needs surgery now. Tough being a mascot these days. No wonder mascot-human relations are at an all-time low.
Yeah, you're right, this is probably my best blog post ever.
How cute is this?
For all the squabbling, egotism, and grandstanding that has marred the afterlife of the new millennium Los Angeles Lakers, last Sunday's NBA All-Star Game gave basketball fans a cushy, feel-good moment. In a meaningless game, with zero circumstances, Shaquille O'Neal and Kobe Bryant offered a glimpse of one the NBA's best ever duos.
Kobe, being Kobe, logged 29 minutes, scored 27 points, and split MVP duties with O'Neal. The Man of Steel, despite logging a team-low 10:56 playing time, bucketed 8-of-9 shots, many of which were set up by his former pivot.
Picture perfect isn't it? I mean, sure, never mind the fact that Shaq's infamous, uh, whatever you call this, was a mere nine months ago. And forget the fact that Kobe called Shaq "fat", mentioned "childlike selfishness", and, oh yeah, he may have told police that the big man drops seven figures to keep women quiet about his involvement with them.
But none of that mattered last weekend. It was all laughs, and dancing, and fond memories.
That led to the somewhat-natural follow-up question of: Could they co-exist again? Could one of the league's all time greatest duos put aside the potty talk and hurt feelings? Could they make one last run?
No. Not maybe. No.
I mean, is it feasible? I suppose it is. At the NBA All-Star break Phoenix sat ninth in the Western Conference, disappointing enough to dump its head coach of four months - Terry Porter. And, sure, the Suns have made it very public that Amar'e Stoudemire is on the trading block, which is just three days away. The Lakers have lost their defacto big man, Andrew Bynum, to injury, again.
So, on one hand, you have an aging center in what is likely the final year of his career languishing on a disappointing team and a first place team that, under normal circumstances, would be an ideal fit.
Salary wrangling would be a problem, but, when it comes to championship hopes, the only incorrect amount spent is "not enough".
But, no, it can't happen. While a bloated salary could be greased up enough to fit a tight space, the Lakers are fresh out of space for a 325-pound addition of egotism.
Lest ye forget, Jerry Buss signs the checks and Kobe pays the bills.
Regardless of what Lakers fans or NBA fans would like - or dread - seeing, sometimes the past is best left to the past.
It's just like that ex-girlfriend whose number sits on the desk or in your cell phone. You tell yourself, 'Maybe, this time, it will work. Maybe we can recapture those good times. There were so many positives! Why not give it a shot?'
Funny how time glamourizes the good and makes you forget that same girl once tried to throw a lamp at you.
The Lakers reached the NBA Finals last season on the back of heroic performances by Bryant and solid contributions from a young bench. Acquiring O'Neal is a reversal of course and, likely, of fortunes.
The Suns sacrificed their fast-footed ways to bring in the foul-line-aphobe and have experienced a steady decline since.
The Big Aristotle proved to be entertaining host in the desert last weekend, emphasizing more than ever, that it takes a dry climate for the Shaqtus to grow.
Michael Bay thinks it's a little over the top. Paris Hilton was offended by its shameless self promotion.
It's the Larry O'Brien trophy - and it's taking over the NBA finals.
By all means, try to avert your gaze. You can't. It's everywhere. During pre-game introductions, two giant replicas stand in the teams' way of taking the court, bathed in a hue of fireside-like light.
During the game is no different. A giant child-like drawing of basketball's holy grail nearly swallows the Boston Celtics center logo. Both jerseys - Lakers flavor and Celtics - have small stitched emblems. Just off Causeway street, another giant replica sits.
They are everywhere! It's the invasion of the inferior trophys! Body snatchers they are not, but they've snatched enough of my attention throughout.
I just wonder if basketball executives are aware of their attempts to undermine the legitimacy of their own trophy. Do they really feel it necessary to saturate us with imagery of their championship wares?
It's a vain, feeble attempt to pair basketball's championship with the likes of the Stanley Cup and the Commissioner's Trophy. Are cartoonish drawings and large replications really befitting of promoting a championship trophy?
If fans bring their own replicas, it's one thing, for the NBA to shove imagery down our throats is another.
This year, the L.O.B. trophy turned 30 year old. Maybe a mid-life crisis is to blame. It's had it's historic moments, sure, but a reminder of it's shape and size don't need to be visible every ten feet.
It's bad enough that the NBA has players and coaches abandon all thoughts of karma and voodoo to pose for pictures with it. Now players get to wear bad fortune.
Any given player may wearing up to two or three per game. The Celtics feature one on top of the shoulder of the warm-up jersey and one on the shoulder of the playing jersey. Kevin Garnett pounds his head against an emblem before he goes to work against the purple and gold. The trophy is checkered behind players and coaches alike at post-game press conferences. Oversaturation is the name of the game.
Necessary? Not at all. We know what it looks like.
The NHL may be lightyears away from the fanbase and support that this year's finals have received, but they feel no need to burn the image of the Stanley Cup into our eyes. In fact, when the cup made a pre-emptive appearence in this year's game five in Detroit, it was frowned upon. They don't need reminders. It makes the journey sweeter to see it for the first time.
Can we give basketball's two most prolific franchises some credit? They know what they're playing for.
The players know glory can't be stitched onto a jersey, drawn onto center court, or inflated on the sidewalk. Only one team can be called champions and there's only one actual trophy to go around.
Well, the match-up of the season has come and passed and after a disappointing 87-85 loss to the Pistons, Celts fans are left to ponder what we learned in the loss. The easy answer? Nothing we didn’t already know.
Watching Chauncey Billups and Rajon Rondo trade blows like Rocky and Apollo in the first quarter was pure fun. Chauncey hits a jumper, Rondo slashes in the lane for two, Chauncey answers back, Rondo answers back - one of the more enjoyable sights of the season so far. But that same match-up turned
An embarrassing foul committed by Tony Allen with .1 seconds left was the lasting image of the night. Billups, the marionette, pulled the wool over our eyes and cut the puppet strings. It all seemed like an act and it felt like we’d been had. We’d been tricked into thinking that a 6-foot-1, 67 pound kid could guard one of the game’s savviest, multi-talented threats. Maybe we should have known all along.
Of course, the backlash resulted in a sportsradio frenzy. Everyone from Abington to
The answer doesn’t lie in knee-jerk reactions. Last week, Rajon Rondo was one of the league most promising young point guards, entering only his second season in the NBA. This week, he can’t hold his mud. 7-of-10 shooting and 7 assists aren’t enough to warrant a premiere time against a tough opponent.
Let’s not be so brash. Rondo has been everything the Celtics have asked for and more. Yes, he still has some filling out to do, but Rondo’s inadequacies against the NBA’s best point guard aren’t to blame for the Celtics loss.
The boys in green shot 4 of 14 from long range, an area that
Sure, you can find blame to place in this game. If you believe Kendrick Perkins, even the team wasn’t exempt from pointing fingers. The scene in the locker room was described as dismal, almost like a funeral. An overreaction? Maybe, but I’ll take a team that plays every game like it’s their last any day of the week. There have been games this year where a surly Kevin Garnett talks to the media after the game, disappointed at what his team could not accomplish in a win. Maybe some of the Belichick stuff is getting around.
The bottom line is last night we witnessed a revival of an old feud. Billups semi-hip check non-call was no Bill Laimbeer fist fight with the hick from French Lick, but it’s the most that basketball fans in Beantown have had to get excited about in 15 years. The Nets/Celtics “rivalry” of 2001 and 2002 was the equivalent of a Pawtucket Red Sox playoff series, it didn’t matter who won, the winners were still losers. Now, five years later, the Eastern Conference is no joke and neither is the renewed rivalry.
Chauncey’s grin was the lasting image of round one. It seems destined for these two teams to meet down the road and if they do expect a series that would do Bird and company proud.
As for what the Celtics learned? They learned they’re still learning. And the Pistons learned that the east just got a lot tougher.