May 30, 2013; Miami, FL, USA; Indiana Pacers shooting guard Lance Stephenson (1) reacts a foul being called for a foul in the fourth quarter as Miami Heat shooting guard Dwyane Wade (3) walks by in game five of the Eastern Conference finals of the 2013 NBA Playoffs at American Airlines Arena. The Heat won 90-79. Mandatory Credit: Robert Mayer-USA TODAY Sports
1. My first thought after Game 5 ended.
“This series is over. Done. Finito. The Heat are going to win this thing. Yep, I just guaranteed this series, Joe Namath-style. Now, I need to go find a piece of wood to knock on…”
Seriously though. This series is all but over.
The Heat need to “only” win one out of the next two games. The Indiana Pacers need to win two straight. Which scenario is more likely to happen? And ignoring the fact that the Heat are the best team in the NBA, that they have the best player on the planet, and that they have the best bench in the NBA, there is also the simple fact that in the conference finals, the team that wins Game 5 has an 80.3% chance of winning the series.
2. My second thought after Game 5 ended.
Did the Pacers’ backcourt even play this game? George Hill and Lance Stephenson literally disappeared from the game. It was like that Chris Paul commercial where Paul disappears from the game to share fries with Steve Nash and Magic Johnson before reappearing in the game to hit a nice floater over Mike Conley — except in this case, George Hill and Lance Stephenson
A. Never decided to reappear.
B. Couldn’t hit a shot to save their lives.
George Hill was 0-for-4 and had one point. One, measly, useless, maggot-of-a-point. I — hell —you could have scored one point if you had played 36 minutes and 50 seconds.
Lance Stephenson was 2-for-7, finished with a grand total of four points, fouled out, and had a +/- of -15. Thanks for not showing up to play, Lance.
3. What did you think of the Tyler Hansbrough — Chris Andersen incident?
For a full shake down of what happened, click here.
Tyler Hansbrough, along with Joakim Noah and Lance Stephenson, are players I love to hate. When Tyler Hansbrough airballs a shot, it’s like Christmas, only better. When Tyler Hansbrough turns the ball over, and does his little “I’m-Tyler-Hansbrough-And-I’m-Better-Than-That” pouty face, I literally run down my street gleefully screaming Tyler Hansbrough-related obscenities during the next commercial break (not really, but I admit, it would be awesome if somebody actually did that). So when Tyler Hansbrough got smacked around like a little rag doll by a 6’10” human helicopter who’s superhero name would either be the Human Tattoo or Birdman, I felt like Jerome Simpson vs. the Arizona Cardinals’ secondary.
And that’s when my neighbors told me to shut the hell up.