Sunday, May 31, 2009

Thinkin' that we got it made



Once upon a time, you dressed so fine
You threw the bums a dime in your prime
Didn't you?
People'd call, say, "Beware Doll, you're bound to fall"
You thought they were all
Kidding you
You used to laugh about
Everybody that was hangin' out
Now you don't talk so loud
Now you don't seem so proud
About having to be scrounging for your next meal

There's genius in the words of Bob Dylan.

66 wins, one division title, one coach of the year, one MVP, one dominant home-court advantage, all boosted by the No. 1 overall seed in the NBA.

Gone.

There was a wondrous feeling of destiny about this team, shared by about two million Northeast Ohio sports fans -- myself included.

Gone.

Following a 30-point loss disguised as a 13-point loss in Game 6 at Amway Arena, I sat there speechless with three friends who were rooting for either the Cavs or a LeBron-Kobe Finals.

Gone.

So the question becomes...

How does it feel?

There's no cute, curt description of agonizing pain that fits. There was simply paralysis. I sat there for 15 minutes without saying a word, and when the time came for the TNT crew to present the Magic with the Eastern Conference championship trophy, I bolted for my room faster than LeBron James bolted for the team bus last night.

There was no other way to respond to the first unqualified playoff failure of the LeBron James era. Pushing the Pistons to seven games in the 2006 conference semis was an unexpected boost for the future. Just being around for the Spurs to sweep in the 2007 NBA Finals was a tremendous feeling. The Celtics were too strong for a Cavs team discombobulated by a season's worth of distractions in last spring's conference semis, and that series still went the distance.

It was a run of overachievement as encouraging as Cleveland's run of heartbreak. I find it awkward when people my age reference the Drive, or the Shot, or any other disappointment that took place when we couldn't walk yet, so I stick to what I know: Art Modell moving the Browns, the Game 7 implosion in the 1997 World Series, the Cavs' record-setting choke job in 2004-05, the fumbling away of the 2007 ALCS, the utter futility of the Browns since their return.

I think the 1995 World Series is a fairly apt comparison of the 2009 Eastern Conference Finals. The Tribe brought the offense, the Braves brought the defense (i.e. pitching). This year's Magic brought the offense, and this year's Cavs were supposed to bring the defense.

Instead, the Magic proved beyond a doubt they are the best team in the NBA. They throw the ball in the post to Dwight Howard, who either schools his defender one-on-one or finds open teammates when he's doubled. Those teammates either re-post Howard, use their athleticism to get to the basket themselves, pull up for a jumper or find another open teammate.
The Magic are equipped with an army of tall, strong players who can shoot from anywhere. More importantly, the ball never stops moving in Orlando's offense, and they get high-percentage shots because of it. The Cavs are as good as anyone in the league on defensive rotations, and they looked silly chasing Orlando's shooters around the floor. When it's clicking, the whole operation is basically unguardable.

And yet, it's not the offense that won Orlando the series. As thoroughly obnoxious as Stan Van Gundy is (a Marlins cap at practice? Really?), his non-stop stressing of defense has given the Magic a supreme advantage. People will bemoan LeBron's lack of help, but the Magic didn't luck out because of it. They were ready for anything. They have big, physical perimeter players who can defend most guys one-on-one, and when a player like LeBron James is on the wing, they funnel everything into Dwight Howard, who has done a better job of bodying up drivers and altering shots without fouling. The Magic were disciplined, they were crisp, they got big stops when they needed them, and it's a credit to their staff, no matter how prehistoric Mike Brown's offense is.

That didn't stop LeBron from single-handedly keeping the Cavs in every game but the last one. I know it sounds trite, especially coming from a Cleveland fan, but he is truly the best basketball player on the planet and an otherworldly talent, the likes of which we haven't seen since Michael Jordan. Isn't it amazing that people still find ways to criticize a 24-year-old who just averaged 35.3 points, 9.1 rebounds and 7.3 assists in a single postseason, including 38.5, 8.3 and 8.0 in the conference finals? When LeBron improves his post-up game and adds Kobe's killer instinct, the results may be incomparable.

Basketball is still a big man's game, however, and it's Dwight Howard, not LeBron, representing the East in the NBA Finals. Howard is also the leader of a more complete team, and as savvy as Danny Ferry's trade for Mo Williams was, more help is needed. Jalen Rose said it best on Sportscenter following the game last night: The Cavs have a bunch of specialists. Good teammates? Yes. Hard-nosed guys? Yes. But still specialists. Delonte West has a versatile game, but he's better suited being the first guy off the bench. Anderson Varejao can defend, rebound and bring energy. Daniel Gibson can hit 3s. Wally Szczerbiak can hit 3s (although his defense did improve). Ben Wallace can defend. Zydrunas Ilgauskas and Joe Smith are big bodies that can shoot and provide a veteran presence. Mo Williams can be a terror on offense, but he was decidedly un-clutch for most of the postseason, and it seems he's best suited being the third option.

That leaves a hole at LeBron's side, a void that still hasn't been filled after six years. The prospects this summer are rather bleak, and Varejao is a free agent who will likely command $10 million a year. The Cavs' payroll will come down a bit, considering Szczerbiak's expiring contract and Wallace talking of retirement and a buyout. But there's a very good chance the Cavs will be a little worse next season.

Of course, any steps backward will feed the LeBron-to-New-York speculation, which is only going to hit its furious apex in the next 12 months. LeBron might have to accept that he won't have a sidekick in Cleveland before next summer, when the organization will have enough money to give him a gigantic extension and still sign any of the superstars available. Will he accept it? That's the million-dollar question.

I suppose there's something encouraging in all this. The superior Orlando Magic simply exposed the elephant in the room. The Cavs were a tight-knit, talented group that played together and had one transcendent star, but they weren't a truly great team. The fact that LeBron still led them this far only makes the future brighter.

Maybe, just maybe, that's the pathetically optimistic Cleveland fan talking. This team was supposed to buck the losing and win a championship. It's not what the Cavs hoped for, it's what they expected. It didn't happen.

It didn't happen for us, either. The drought continues.

Ain't it hard when you discover that
He really wasn't where it's at
After he took from you everything he could steal

Saturday, May 30, 2009

....

This really, really stings, and it's going to for awhile.

More later.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

Witness that



Hopefully "The Shot" will mean something different now in Cleveland. What a moment.

So far this series, we've blown huge leads, regressed on offense, gotten obvious on defense, watched Orlando put up ridiculous shooting percentages, and now there's a hostile environment in central Florida to look forward to.

But I'll worry about that tomorrow.

1-1 baby.

Thursday, May 21, 2009

Stuart Scott is a Useless Jock Sniffer

When I got a subscription to ESPN Magazine, I was doing it for all the right reasons. I wanted to help out a Catholic high school that my sister happens to attend. Fine. All that goodwill just went out the window. After starting at the back and working my way towards the front, I was almost finished with what I considered to be a strongly-written, well-done issue when I stumbled upon the mental pile of shit that is Stuart Scott's "Two-Way" column. In the past, this has been an opportunity for Scott to do one or more of the following things:

--Use fawning e-mails from people that truly love everything ESPN does to sexually pleasure himself.

--Increase his "street cred" by trying to be real about what athletes really think despite the fact that he has never actually been a professional athlete.

--Give horrid, banal answers that never, ever step outside the bounds of what the higher-ups would want him to say.

Scott fielded what might be termed a hostile question from a reader a few issues ago, one that was nothing more than a diss on the WNBA. Scott rushed to the WNBA's defense and buried the reader with harsh, tough-talking invective. Of course, his reaction couldn't possibly have anything to do with the fact that ESPN/ABC/FUCKING DISNEY are locked into a TV contract with the WNBA through 2016. I'd like to think that Scott is toeing the company line here, and that he realizes that, fair or not, a majority of the men that make up the majority of ESPN's audience could give a huge bag of goat shit about the WNBA--Bill Simmons readily acknowledges that fact all that time. Sadly though, I think Scott actually believes some of the nonsense he spouts, and really thinks he's taking on all the haters out there.

Whatever though. I dismissed his answer as typical annoying garbage. Annoying but not maddening.

Maddening just happened tonight.

For your benefit, I'll retype his column verbatim, and add in a little commentary. It'll be formatted all pretty-like, so you won't have to struggle to guess who said what. Though I think the fact that my analysis will include the word "fuck" about 254 times should tip you off. Let's dive right in.

Creel from "_____" (I like to think of it as "Parts Unknown" writes:

"Who's been the dirtiest player in this year's NBA playoffs, Stuart?"

A valid question, if you ask me. Creel was probably referring to this guy and his lovely running forearm shiver, which earned him a suspension and probably saved the Lakers from an upset loss in the series, as the team was forced to use a competent player in his place in Game 3. Surely, Creel has a valid point that there've been some very dirty, chippy plays in this year's playoffs, right Stu?

"Creel, tough, aggressive hoops isn't dirty; it's old school. Some say Derek Fisher made a dirty play against Luis Scola. But in the playoffs, sometimes you have to send a message. Bird, Jordan, Magic, J, Wilt, Russell...they all did it. I call it manning up for your teammates. If you get suspended, that's the cost. If I'd been the ref, I would've called a flagrant on Derek too. But as a teammate and a coach, I'd appreciate what you did."

Yeah, I'm sure his teammates were feeling threatened by Luis Scola and the Rockets, who were massive underdogs all series. If you want to man up for your teammates, Derek Fisher, you should've tried the same play against Ron Artest, who would've probably stabbed you in the heart with his shoelace. I'm sure Fisher's teammates and coaches did appreciate his actions though, as his suspension saved them from having to tell him how awful of a player he is and how he's killing the team with his barrage of missed 3-pointers. Christ, saying something is "old school" is a tidy way of saying "completely uncalled for and cheap."

Ty Cobb, now there was an old school baseball player. Look at his slides, how he tried to impale those vaguely black-looking players with his extra-sharp cleats. Guy knew how to man up for his teammates.

Matt from Dallas chimes in with the following:

"Guys like Manny, Barry, A-Rod and Clemens don't care about the Hall of Fame/tainted records/public scrutiny, Stu. When will the media start painting them as the thieves they are?"

Again, some valid points. I can't get totally behind the thieves thing, but I can understand the philosophy behind it. They were cheating to put up better numbers and in turn command better salaries. If you cheat at your desk job, and you get paid better for it, that could certainly be construed as a type of cheating. Stu, your thoughts?

"Matt, you clearly do not understand what being an athlete is about. These guys are world class, and it's impossible to get there without loving what you do, without pouring your heart and soul into what you do. Even if you assume they all cheated (though Clemens and Bonds still deny using), it came from desire, a need to be the best. Making a mistake like taking steroids doesn't mean you're a thief."

Oh FUCKING CHRIST ALMIGHTY IN HEAVEN. WHERE THE FUCK DO I START? First off, how the fuck does Stu Scott know what being an athlete is about any more than Matt? Matt's subscription to a sports magazine and the fact that he cares enough about sports to write in to fucking "Two-way" are certainly indicators of a zest for athletic competition that might have manifested itself in active participation in athletics. Stuart Scott "gets" what being an athlete "is all about" like I "get" what being a hermaphroditic hooker is "all about." For fuck's sake Stu, you never played a down of organized professional anything, AND you got hit in the eye by a ball from a JUGS machine, so SHUT THE FUCK UP AND STOP ACTING LIKE YOU'RE ON THE INSIDE.

The statement from Scott that casts doubt about whether Clemens and Bonds actually cheated? Another fucking gag-inducing example of a never-was trying to act like he's in the fraternal society of shrunken-testicle anti-heroes. Guess what Stu, they might not have admitted it, but then again, O.J. is still out there looking for the real killer and so forth. OPEN YOUR EYES AND TAKE OFF THE BLINDERS, YOU ARE DUMBER THAN A FUCKING RACEHORSE.

Oh, and I desire to be the best in my profession too. The easiest way to do that would be to kill everyone I work with and appoint myself ruler and master. But that would be cheating. In Stu's mind, though, that's okay. Because I love what I do, and I'm pouring my soul into it--while gallons of blood are pouring out of my adversaries.

Jon from Flagstaff writes:

"Will the Dodgers make it to the post-season without Manny in the lineup for two months?"

Yeah, probably.

"Well, they had him for only the final two months of the season last year and made it, so yes."

Finally, a fucking breather.

Zach from Des Moines chimes in with this:

Magic seems like a great guy, Stuart. Is he fun to work with? What about Jon Barry? And Mike Wilbon?

I'm sure Magic's a child molestor, Barry is a closet racist who rapes sheep, and Wilbon drinks the blood of virgins and eats cat poop during commercials.

"Zach, Magic doesn't talk to me, I don't talk to Barry, and Barry doesn't talk to Wilbon. Very dysfunctional group. I'm just kidding! It's a blast. But as much fun as we have on the set, we have about five times more fun in the greenroom. Watching the games and eating pizza, along with the TV crew, it's like a little family. We have a large-screen for the basketball game and several smaller sets so Wilbon can keep up with his Cubs and we can watch the PGA. Truth be told, on Masters Sunday, we moved the ABC game to the small monitor and watched Tiger and Phil chase Perry and Cabrera on the big-screen HD. Keep that to yourself."

Yes Zach, keep that to yourself, because, like it or not, you've just been invited into Stu's special club, the "I wish I was a pro athlete so I could hang like them but I'll settle for telling stories about hanging with retired pro athletes instead," club. Club population is 1. Chummy insider shit like this makes me sick, along with the heaviest-handed, dumbest attempt at humor ever in the first few lines. The vomit is rising...

...and now it's about to spew:

Frank from Bemidji, Minn. writes:

"If Brett Favre ends up playing for the Vikings, how would you rate their Super Bowl chances?"

When Brett Favre eventually signs with the Vikings, he will be a mild improvement over the horrendous, pants-shittingly awful guy they have now in Tarvaris Jackson. He will also be a significant downgrade from Sage Rosenfels, who is actually decent. He will also suck all positive vibes coming from the team into a dark vortex made of Wrangler Five Star Premium denim jeans. With that in mind, they have no chance at the Super Bowl and will go 5-11.

"Frank, let go. Just let go. He's not coming back. You're like Pavlov's dog. Cut it out, it ain't pretty."

When Favre comes back, Stu, I'll have my own e-mail for you. Here's a sneak peek:

Hey Stu, FLS from Parts Unknown here:

Die. Or stop writing. Or both.

Hopefully they'll let me Holla at Him--if I make the cut.

Monday, May 18, 2009

And now the real fun begins



The Orlando Magic? Gee golly! Looks like central Florida's NBA franchise with a WNBA mascot wants a piece of us in the Eastern Conference Finals!

How exactly did Orlando get through the Celtics? I guess Dwight Howard dunked a bunch and they made just enough ridiculously ill-advised 3-pointers to win. I also bet Stan Van Gundy stopped pissing off his stars long enough to preach defense. Plus, you can only blow so many fourth quarter leads in one series.

I hate the way the Magic play. They (it?) are lazy on defense, relying on D12's shot-blocking too much. They shoot 500 treys a game and somehow make a lot of them. They don't push the tempo as much as they should. This team isn't going to out-scheme anybody. If they win, it's because they have more energy or they're more athletic.

I wasn't sure which team I wanted the Cavs to face in the conference finals. Slaughtering the Celtics in four or five games would be juicy sweet, and even without Kevin Garnett, you got the sense they were a better team than the Magic. On the other hand, Orlando plays that pre-Chauncy Billups Nuggets style, an infuriating concoction of ignorance of fundamentals and how-the-fuck-did-he-make-that shots. The old Nuggets gave the Cavs fits, and I bet this series goes at least six games because of it. But knocking out such a juvenile brand of basketball would give me great pleasure, too.

It is what it is. We have to go through Orlando to get to the Finals. Given the playoff intensity, it should be fun. Let's get this thing under way.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Friday, May 8, 2009

These are the voyages



In times like this, who can really afford an IMAX ticket? Or a movie ticket, period? You're asking us to shell out $13 for a two-hour film? I don't care how good it looks, that's absurd.

And since movies are often a reflection of society, what kind of dilapidated society are we living in, anyway? Last summer, The Dark Knight mowed over the competition with brute force, which means people turned out in droves to see a movie about a nasty world where our heroes are destroyed and chaos reigns supreme. The Joker took the initiative to show how flimsy the morals of the lawmakers and peacekeepers were, and that in desperate times, the only solution is to stop living by rules. And here's the twisted part. In our current economic climate, couldn't you argue that of all the characters, the Joker was the most reasonable?

It's not just the superheroes, either. Last year's Oscars were dominated by death (No Country For Old Men), greed and ruthlessness (There Will Be Blood), corruption (Michael Clayton), and past sins (Atonement). As John Stewart famously quipped at the ceremony, "Does this town need a hug?"

It very well may, and if that's the case, then we all need a hug. People are losing their jobs, their homes and their faith in the system. Confidence is sagging, paranoia is spreading and desperation is starting to set in. Our entertainment is reflecting those conditions.

The simple truth is there's not a lot of optimism in the world right now.

Star Trek hopes to change that.


I. The hull of the ship

You've seen the people with Vulcan ears and severe overbite, with Starfleet apparel and thick glasses, with plastic phasers and bad hygiene. These people -- not-so-affectionately dubbed "Trekkies" -- have represented Star Trek to mainstream audiences for four decades. Star Trek has become a nerd haven, a subject for geeks to lord over other members of society. The original series, its four offshoots and the movie franchise are a gated community, accessible only to those willing to sacrifice their "normal" reputation among peers and be labeled as true dorks.

Such divisiveness is a real shame, considering the original series was largely about coming together.

Take yourself back to the 1960s for a moment. Here was a show about space travel, a buoyant topic at the time, with a crew that featured two white men, an alien, a black woman, an Asian, a Russian (nee Soviet) and a Scot -- all during the century's most tumultuous social climate, when Vietnam, the Cold War and racial tensions were at their peak.

As the USS Enterprise zipped from planet to planet, most episodes highlighted the pros and cons of human nature. Witness "The Enemy Within", during which Captain Kirk splits into two separate beings (one gentle, one evil) due to a transporter malfunction, and later bravely declares that the evil side is an important part of mankind's ability to lead. Or consider "Arena", in which a powerful alien race seizes the Enterprise and a ship it's chasing and pits Kirk in an unarmed battle against the other ship's reptilian captain, an act that shames their primitive conflict and shows humanity still has a lot of growing to do.

Star Trek: The Original Series only lasted three years, and while there are several reasons it got cancelled, I suspect one of the biggest is that people simply didn't want to hear the truth. We are a seriously flawed race, but we do the best we can. Rarely did a Star Trek episode end on a negative note, which hints that while mankind is far from perfect, we can work together for a brighter future.

That's what director J.J. Abrams and his crew have retained. Optimism was always the foundation of the television series, the hull of the Enterprise, so to speak.

I doubt the non-dorks ever figured that out.


II. People can be very frightened of change

Those words, delivered by Captain James T. Kirk at the end of Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, are a good way to describe reaction to the new Kirk.

In the pop culture lexicon, few roles are more synonymous with one person. Before William Shatner evolved into, well, William Shatner, he was the cocky, resourceful captain of the Enterprise with a boyish charm and the ability to make tough decisions (not to mention that speech cadence).

As the new Star Trek movie arrives, so does a group of fresh faces playing familiar roles, and none of them face more pressure than 28-year-old Chris Pine. At first glance, he's got Kirk's look and swagger. But is he a guy you'd want to follow into battle? Pine himself has posed that very question, and as it turns out, we're all going to find out together.

One of Star Trek's keynotes is the transformation of Kirk from a rebellious Iowa farm boy to the confident captain of the Enterprise, and it's a tricky role. We've never seen this story before; it dates back to before the first episode of the original series. Pine has to grow without growing too much, because part of what makes Kirk Kirk is his brash attitude and unshakable demeanor. He'll be a punk kid early on, but will Pine be able to keep the kid while losing the punk?

A large part of the movie hinges on it. Pine has chosen to retain Shatner's "humor, arrogance and decisiveness" while incorporating elements of other characters in his performance, such as Indiana Jones, Han Solo and Maverick from Top Gun.

Pine clearly understands that he's playing Captain Kirk and not William Shatner, which is most important.

And the early returns look like a welcome change.


III. G'day, mates

Captain Kirk isn't the only one being recast for a whole new generation.

Zachary Quinto actively pursued the role of Spock, Kirk's half-human, half-Vulcan sidekick science officer. Only this time, there's a great struggle taking place between those pointy ears.

The writers, Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman, breathe new life into Spock by presenting him as a conflicted youth, frustrated in his devotion to strict Vulcan logic and abandonment of human emotion. As he learns to govern those emotions, he blows up at Kirk and does all sorts of things that will likely make Star Trek purists cringe.

But that's the point. Like Kirk, Spock isn't himself yet. We know the character from 40 years of television and movies, but everyone grows up at some point or another.

Well, most of us do. Karl Urban's portrayal of Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy finds Kirk's confidante as grouchy and funny as ever, playing the skeptic to just about everything that befalls the Enterprise crew. Bones meets Kirk at Starfleet Academy, so we'll get to see how their brotherly bond developed, and also watch Urban sidestep his tough-guy background and cavort around as the cynical doctor.

Linguistics expert Uhura is given a larger role of the hands of Zoe Saldana, whom Abrams requested specifically for the part. John Cho is the new Sulu, flaunting his fencing skills and representing "all of Asia" on the Enterprise. Pale-skinned Anton Yelchin is the new Chekov, a curious choice who has already adopted the Russian's accent and oddities. And don't even get me started on Simon Pegg as Scotty. I wouldn't recommend eating before the movie, you'll probably lose your lunch laughing.

One by one, the crew we know and love will assemble on the new Enterprise. Hopefully we'll grow to love them just as much as the original team.


IV. Eric Bana and the time-tossed Romulans

No villainous alien race pestered the original crew as much as the Klingons. Thank God they're not the primary antagonists of Star Trek.

Tensions between the United States and Russia have cooled, so there's no longer a place for the Soviet parallel, and this animalistic culture got its time to shine in Star Trek III: The Search For Spock and Star Trek VI, not to mention a number of original series episodes.

This time around, the enemies are Romulans, the distant cousins of Vulcans meant to evoke a space-age Roman civilization. And in an increasingly welcome blockbuster tradition, these villains actually have logical motives and aren't all-powerful miscreants out for galactic domination.

Eric Bana plays Nero, a blue-collar Romulan driller who is tossed back to the past through a black hole. But Nero isn't a happy camper. In the future, he and his co-workers have been screwed by the United Federation of Planets, and Kirk and Spock in particular are multiple offenders.

Now, these new-look Romulans have been gifted a morally fascinating opportunity: destroy Kirk and Spock and the Federation planets before they ever screw them over in the first place.

It seems that the Romulans' gargantuan power drill does most of the dirty work, and a European teaser poster shows it plunging into the water near the Golden Gate Bridge -- an ominous image, considering Starfleet Academy is based in San Francisco.

The Romulans have never gotten their due as top-tier Trek villains, and hopefully that's about to change with their starring role in Star Trek.


V. Star Trek, for the non-Trekkie

One thing that early reviews have universally praised is the accessibility of the new film. As mentioned before, the whole franchise has become such a geek gala that the mainstream viewer has been turned off by the mere mention of the name "Star Trek."

This film, on the other hand, is Star Trek for the non-Trekkie. Abrams has openly admitted to being just a casual fan of the original series, and as frightening as that sounded at first, his rewiring of Gene Roddenberry's creation might be the very thing that kick-starts this stalled franchise.

There's a young, good-looking cast. There's a spiffed-up Enterprise, complete with an Apple Store bridge. There are no cheap camera tricks or laughable costumes with visible zippers, only big-budget visual effects and action to spare.

There's also a sizeable cameo by one of Star Trek's chief ambassadors to bridge the gap. Leonard Nimoy, the original Spock, reprises his role as the future version of Quinto. It's a good bet he has something to do with the young crew recognizing and stopping the Romulans' plan, and it doesn't hurt when Nimoy, who has long tried to distance himself from the character, picked this film to make his return and gave it his full endorsement.

Nimoy's presence is one of several things that will make classic Trek fans feel right at home. The infamous Kobayashi Maru test makes an appearance. Spock still tells people to "Live long, and prosper." Rumors abound of the most spectacular (and hilarious) redshirt death in the history of the franchise.

Appealing to newcomers and seasoned Trekkers alike is not an easy feat, and if Abrams pulls it off, it'll be an impressive achievement.

It means that people will come together, which is a big point the movie is trying to make.


VI. You've earned this

It won't be easy to watch Star Trek at first. Kirk and Spock will hate each other's guts. The crew will be unsure of one another. They'll have to deal with a bunch of pissed-off Romulans who want them dead. Abrams himself has remarked, "I didn't love Kirk and Spock when I began this journey, but I love them now."

That's the idea. Is there any better way to reintroduce classic characters than to grow with them on their maiden voyage?

That's the mindset of Orci and Kurtzman, who (Transformers involvement notwithstanding) seem to have picked the perfect vantage point to reapproach Star Trek, along with producers Damon Lindelof and Bryan Burk.

Audiences are going to earn a place aboard the Enterprise. They're going to endure the growing pains. The moment that Kirk and Spock learn to trust each other and work together will be all the more rewarding.

Character-driven storytelling is a staple of Star Trek and a lost commodity these days. The new movie won't have time to pose interesting scientific questions like the original series did, but hey, the cast and crew (excluding Abrams) are signed on for two sequels.

From the moment John F. Kennedy mobilized America in the space race, the world of Star Trek has seemed fantastic but not necessarily far-fetched. With all the progress we've made in space exploration, its vision of the future seems more and more plausible.

Maybe by the mid-23rd century we'll have arrived at that point.

For now, I'm optimistic that we'll get there.

Thursday, May 7, 2009

A Quick Observation

When I watch Kobe Bryant play basketball and make contested jump shots, and then act like he's the toughest shit on the block, I want to take a baseball bat to his knees. Then I remember that he's more than likely despised by all of his teammates, is an obsessive image freak, and in truth is probably going to go down as one of the most reviled elite athletes of all time, right up next to Barry Bonds. Oh, and I remember that his wife owns him now, he's a delusional human being, and he wants desperately for everyone to love him and call him the greatest ever. It's comforting knowing that no one outside of L.A. with a functional brain will ever love him, and that there's no chance for him to be considered the best ballplayer of all time.

Oh, and I also think to myself, "Why does a guy that came from a wealthy, ritzy suburb of Philly try to act tough? It just makes no sense." I laugh some more.

By the way, Ron Artest is my favorite player ever.

Wednesday, May 6, 2009

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Kris Pooty Letang...WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Monday, May 4, 2009

One for the road



As first reported by FLS in the post below, Cavaliers forward and basketball deity LeBron James is going to win his first league MVP award today, with the official announcement expected this afternoon at St. Vincent-St. Mary High School in Akron.

It's been a three-horse race all season between LeBron, last year's MVP Kobe Bryant and Dwyane Wade. LeBron's numbers (28.4 points, 7.6 rebounds and 7.2 assists) are all better than his career averages, which is remarkable considering he's actually had to do less this season with a more talented roster at his disposal.

In all honesty, LeBron is second on my own personal ballot, simply because I saw Dwyane Wade do for Miami this season what LeBron has done most of his career, i.e. damn near kill himself dragging a crappy roster to places it has no business being. It's my contention that LeBron James was the league MVP in 2005-06, when it went to Steve Nash, and last season, when it went to ol' Sunshine out here in Los Angeles. As always, the voters put way too much stock in the Cavs' win total those years (50 and 45, FYI), and the awards went elsewhere.

But my ballot doesn't mean shit, and the award is more than deserved. LeBron can cross off "MVP" from his to-do list, which means there's only one thing left to win.


That's what really matters. Everyone can tell you how many titles Michael Jordan won, or Magic Johnson, or Bill Russell, or Shaquille O'Neal. No one can tell you how many league MVP awards they won, and no one really cares.

This six-month night out with the Cavs has been a lot of fun, and this award is like one last Irish car bomb before you leave the bar to go home and hammer a hot chick.

That hot chick is the championship. Let's seal the deal.

Breaking News According to Sportscenter

If DJMJ can write about my city's superstar, I'll come out with this:

I'm watching Sportscenter right now, and Brian Windhorst of the Cleveland Plain Dealer is reporting that LBJ will receive his first MVP award this afternoon.

Bout damn time, I'd say.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

A foreword for the forwards

I gotta come clean. I don't really like Sidney Crosby. He's a great scorer and an even better passer, I get that. But I hate his slithery style. I hate how he gets rattled by the smallest hint of physicality, and second assists certainly help his rep. Having Evgeni Malkin basically as his bodyguard and running mate doesn't hurt, either, and Crosby plays in Pittsburgh, which is grounds for me lobbing flaming bags of dog shit at him on its own.

But Crosby has an insatiable habit of kicking his game up several notches when the stakes are highest, and with Alexander Ovechkin and the second-seeded Capitals lining up across the ice, he knows that this series will go a long way (right or wrong) toward determining who's the better superstar.

With that in mind, and with NBC HD in my living room, it's time to get this souped-up playoff series going.


I wouldn't expect too much of that.