The basketball blogosphere is a diverse community of writers, many of whom produce incredible pieces that range from the deeply emotional to the brilliantly analytical.
I’m not going for either, to be honest, because after four games in a little over a week, I can honestly say I just don’t care very much for the Brooklyn Nets.
I know that goes against what “journalists” are supposed to do, remaining unbiased while providing reports on a team. Ideally, there’d be no allegiances here. But that’s ridiculous and impractical because, like the referees that make that call a little too enthusiastically with the clock winding down, we’re all human and capable of getting swept up by emotions.
Now, to be fair, I’ve disliked Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett for a while; they were two starters on my All-Douche Team from a few months back and are definitely on my All-Time-Bastard Team. I’m not some bandwagoning hater. So, if you’re a fan of the Celtics during their glory days of nearly six years ago and are now Brooklyn fans by default, you probably can’t read this anyway so I don’t mind that you feel insulted.
Without further ado…
Paul Pierce’s Attempt at a “Beard” – This thing is scraggly, disjointed and just plain sad. If the beard is the manliest symbol of a man (think Hemmingway, Jesus, Santa Claus, etc.), then Pierce’s she-stubble is perfectly fitting.
Kevin Garnett’s Ill-Timed Enthusiasm – Cheering for Garnett as he enters the twilight of his career has reached unprecedented levels of vomit-inducing. Fans look to his enthusiasm and effort and label him a warrior and leader, conveniently forgetting that he never fought for anything in his early days in Minnesota and routinely led those teams right outta’ the first round of the playoffs. So, one championship gift courtesy of ex-Celtic Kevin McHale later, he’s considered some kind of postseason hero. Yeah, go cheer for your one ring and 7 points per game somewhere else, pal.
Alan Anderson’s Fighting Spirit – We get it, Anderson, you’re a tough guy and won’t back down. Way to go. You’re willing and ready to take on anyone in front of a national television audience and with a dozen other people to stand in your way. Ooooooh. So tough. Maybe you can challenge a nursing home once you get ushered out of the playoffs. And speaking of old ladies…
Andrei Kirilenko’s Hair – Ok. This is just ridiculous. Miami survived the luxurious mane of Josh McRoberts in Charlotte only to face the…what do you even call that thing? Is this the Russian version of a Justin Bieber hairdo? Could your wife, family and hipster fanbase not point out how wrong this is? Even your own team doesn’t know what to do with you! When they put you on a shirt and you wind up looking like Martha Stewart, maybe it’s time for a trim. Just saying.
The Bench Shotgun Salute – Yup, way to beat a metaphor to death, Brooklyn. It’s a big shot so, of course, you celebrate by shooting imaginary ducks flying o’erhead inside the Barclay’s Center. Yes, yes. It must be what it was like for you to grow up in Turn of the Century England, when you went hunting for quail along with Mum, Father Dearest and the rest of the cast of Downton Abbey. Save that crap for PBS, bruh…you guys just look like a bunch of hyperactive morons that don’t know what to do with their hands as they watch their team slink towards the finish line.
So that’s all I’ve got, at least for now. I’m sure there’s more to make fun of – Joe Johnson’s contract, Teletovic’s hair, Andray unique Blatche-ness – but I don’t want to think about Brooklyn any more. In less than two days, their season (and maybe a few careers) will be over. But if you want to give me any suggestions, there’s always Indiana probably waiting in the next round.
A whole column devoted to Luis Scola’s greasy mop/hairband combination awaits!