A Note To The Big Ten

Pictured above are two people that accurately represent the average Big 10 fans. By the looks of them, I'd say Iowa or Wisconsin fans. Certainly not debonair Northwestern fans, or fans with an infuriating sense of entitlement and self-satisfaction, like Penn State fans. Yes, they must be Iowa or Wisconsin fans. What do Iowa and Wisconsin fans have in common? They're both happy today, as their teams pulled off bowl victories against ranked teams from supposed "power conferences." Except, they both beat ACC teams, and this isn't basketball we're talking about (but we'll get to that soon enough).

You might have heard your favorite talking head blabbering on and on about how the Big Ten really made a statement in this bowl season. Iowa won the Orange Bowl. Ohio State won the Rose Bowl, Penn State won the Capital One Bowl. Wisconsin won the Champs Sports Bowl, which probably changed its name again in the time since I wrote that part of this sentence. Northwestern barely lost to Auburn, a team that plies its trade in gasp! the SEC.

"The Big Ten is back," they say. "All hail the Big Ten," the pundits laud.

Please. Give me a fucking break. One bowl season does not a reputation make. The Big Ten has taken flack for about the past decade for choking on a fat dong during bowl season, and just because they managed to turn around and give a little back for once shouldn't be a reason for everyone to toot their collective horns about a bunch of land grant schools that play boring, pointless possession football. The Big Ten still sucks, but this year's crop of bowl teams was lucky enough to face teams more fatally flawed than them, and more importantly, more fatally flawed than usual. Speed still kills in college football, and just because it didn't win out this once doesn't mean it won't next year. And don't forget, Minnesota and Michigan State both lost their bowl games, so it's not like the Big Ten was a whole crew of world beaters. They just happened to squeak by in the bigger games.

And as for basketball, any fan that wants to proclaim the Big Ten the best league in the country this year can just eat my shit and leave right now. I don't care that Purdue beat West Virginia, or that the Big Ten finally won the Big Ten/ACC Challenge. If ESPN makes a slate of inter-conference games into a made-for-TV event, they probably expect one of the conferences to show up more than once a decade. Get fucked, Big Ten defenders, your conference still blows in every sense of the word.

Sincerely,

Francois Leroux Speedskater

Doug the D-Bag presents: Boise Hate

'Sup jocksniffers? That's right. I said "sup." Of course I said sup. It's more d-baggy.

For those of you who don't know, I'm Doug Gottlieb, the only accurate analyst on ESPN. You may recognize me from College Basketball Live, when I disagree with everyone else just because they're on the same set as me. Or you may recognize me from my radio show, where I mention my wife every five minutes because she's the only chick hot enough and smart enough for a guy like me. Or you may recognize me from college basketball broadcasts, when I deliberately say dickish things and exude a dickish attitude as the color guy, messing up the nice dynamic the hack play-by-play guy is trying to establish.

Turns out I'm friends with DJMJ, co-blogger here on Creative Differences. He's really pissed about Boise State winning another Fiesta Bowl. But if he said what he really wanted to say about it, every race/religion/political affiliation/sexual preference would storm his apartment with pitchforks and pathos. So he passed it off to me, Doug the D-Bag.

Hey, Boise State, who the fuck do you think you are? That guy on Fox tonight said that you "solidified your status as a college football power." The only status you solidified is that of the erect schlort of every woefully ill-equipped male Boise State fan. You know, the same guys who taunted LeGarrette Blount from the stands and then hid behind each other faster than Byron Hout fell to the ground. Why the hell do you go to school in Idaho? Didn't we sell Idaho to Canada 20 years ago? Is that what you are now? Is that why your nerf turf at Bronco Stadium is Labatt Blue? Go slam a few more bottles and try to score with the butt-ugly band chicks who represent the hottest co-eds on BSU's campus. As for your football team, give me a fucking break. So you've won two BCS games against teams whose body language was silly putty. Okahoma and TCU clearly didn't give a shit about the game because they were playing you and not, I don't know, a program that doesn't treat chicken-shit trickery like it's fucking fundamental. The second-place team in your conference lost to Notre Dame 35-0. But hey, keep trumpeting the W(h)ac(k). Keep telling us you're getting tested week in and week out. Tested for STDs after sleeping with subpar competition, maybe. But not tested by real teams. And don't even try to throw that Oregon win at me. That Oregon team looks as much like the eventual Pac-10 champion as Rupaul looks like Zoe Saldana. Who's your most famous alumnus, Boise State? Kimo Von Oelhoffen? Ryan Clady? How's Diggity Dan Hawkins doing now that he's coaching a decent program in a BCS conference? Sucking shit? No, I don't think you should worry about him. I'm sure Colorado loves losing two out of every three games it plays. You'd be lucky to do that if you moved into a BCS conference. Until then, keep sweeping through the local Pop Warner league and neighing about how you deserve a shot at the national championship. Have fun watching Alabama and Texas like the rest of us, dickwads.

New Year, New You, I Still Hate The Big 10

So we haven't posted in awhile here at CD.

(Checks last post date. Sees it's over three months ago. Cares little.)

Sue us.

In the spirit of New Year's resolutions, we're going to start posting again. Or at least, I am, and we'll see if DJMJ gets back on the horse as well. Maybe we'll even try to get people to read it too, or not. Either way, the same idiotic humor, stereotyping and general lunacy you've come to expect will dominate the screen. So buckle up, strap in, take a cleansing dump and enjoy, Creative Differences is back and worse than ever.

Oh, and a hearty FUCK YOU to the Big 10. Thanks and have a great day.

The LOLBrownz are LOLBack

Because there's no other way to write about this heinous perversion of professional football.

Unreal

If you root for a good NFL team, I humbly request that you always keep in mind one thing:

You are really, really, really, really lucky.

That's it.

CD blogger teaches James Walker a lesson

So I got a little hammered Wednesday night and woke up still hammered the next morning, which is why I penned a little paragraph and sent it to ESPN.com AFC North blogger James Walker. Normally I'm not the type of person to write bitchy little e-mails or complain to my senator or shit like that, but it was the alcohol talking.

Anyway, Walker actually led off a post with my diatribe, which concerned the tissue-paper toughness of Steelers fans detailed here. He could have led off with any of the hundreds of messages he gets each day, but it took a well-penned paragraph with truth and justice as its foundation to bat leadoff in this Friday post.

Perhaps we're finally on our way to exposing Steelers fans as cold-blooded pussies! No longer will they be ranked as the best fans in the NFL by sports media outlets!

We can only hope!

Serena and Roger Go To Starbucks

Serena Williams: Boy Roger, it sure was a good idea you had to meet up and talk shop at Starbucks. We're both at the top of our games, and we have lots of good tennis still ahead of us. I think picking each other's brains and talking about the hardships of staying on top is really going to help both of us out.

Roger Federer: Absolutely, I think this is going to be great for both of us. And plus, who doesn't like a cup of overpriced swill?

SW: I know! I can taste my caramel macchiato and we haven't even walked in the door!

Cashier: Welcome to Starbucks, what can I get for you?

SW: I'll just have a grande caramel macchiato, please.

Cashier: Oh, I'm so sorry, we're out of caramel, and I was told by the manager not to offer them without caramel.

SW: You're not serious.

Cashier: I am. There's nothing I can do. It's not my fault.

SW: Fault? Did you say FAULT? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WATCHING BITCH? DID YOU SEE MY FOOT GO OVER THE LINE? NO! MY FOOT WAS BEHIND THE LINE!

Cashier: I'm sorry miss, but I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about.

SW: I WILL FUCKING SHOW YOU THE MEANING OF PAIN! I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL TAKE THIS ESPRESSO MACHINE AND JAM IT UP YOUR ASS UNTIL YOU'RE THROWING UP EXCREMENT! I WILL SCRAPE OFF THE INSIDES OF YOUR INTESTINES WITH THE LOOSE STRINGS FROM THE TENNIS RACKET I'M ABOUT TO BREAK ON YOUR MISERABLE FACE!

Cashier: (Stares vacantly)

RF: Serena, Serena, calm down. It's not that big of a deal, there's plenty of other good stuff on the menu. Just get something else besides your usual. Branch out a little.

SW: You're right Roger, you're right. I'll have a grande iced latte.

Cashier: And for you, sir?

RF: I'll have the pumpkin latte with a shot of espresso.

Cashier: (Pauses 10 seconds) Oh sir, I don't mean to steer you away from your choice, but our lead barista said that that combination doesn't taste very well. In fact, it's made several people sick.

RF: I DON'T GIVE A SHIT WHAT HE SAID.

Cashier: (Shrugs)

RF: DON'T SHOW YOUR HANDS TO ME. I WILL TALK WHEN I WANT TO, AND I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHAT HE SAID! DON'T YOU PEOPLE HAVE RULES IN HERE? WHY DID YOU WAIT SO FUCKING LONG TO TELL ME? ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS CHALLENGE MY CHOICE OF CAFFEINATED BEVERAGE QUICKLY AND DECISIVELY! DON'T WAIT TEN SECONDS. THIS IS BULLSHIT!

Cashier: (Shits pants, runs away)

RF: I'll have a tall regular coffee, black.

Barista: Y-y-yes sir.

RF: So, about tennis--that Rafael Nadal is super lame, don't you think?

SW: Oh, absolutely. Say, off-topic for a minute...(Dons suit and tie) have you found God, Roger? I mean, really found him, because if not, I'd like to chat with you about the Jehovah's Witnesses and our mission for a few minutes.

RF: Shit.

Gus Johnson goes to the dentist

Sports journalism is a deteriorating medium. People who don't deserve jobs are getting hired, informal nonsense like Twitter is considered a legitimate source, and even the slightest events are stories amid 24/7 coverage. But there is beacon of light, a transcendent announcer with the power to turn the simplest chores into white-knuckle excitement. His name is Gus Johnson...



GUS: Honey, I'm heading off to the dentist for my tooth cleaning! I don't know if I'll be back by five but I'M GONNA TRY MY BEST!

WIFE: All right, sweetheart.

Gus drives over to the dentist's.

DENTIST: Well, Gus, good to see you again.

GUS: Good to see you too, Doc!

DENTIST: Ready to get started?

GUS: YES SIRRRR!

DENTIST: Go ahead and lie down in that chair.

Gus lies down.

DENTIST: First, we'll clean out your mouth. Here's a cup of water. Swish that around in your mouth a bit and then spit it out into the sink by the chair.

GUS: DOWN IT GOES! THIS WATER IS EXCELLENT!

DENTIST: All right, now I'm going to give you a local anesthetic.

GUS: THEY LOCALIZED ANESTHESIA? IMPOSSIBLE!

DENTIST: It's just to numb you so you don't feel any pain. You'll still be awake during the cleaning.

GUS: No need, Doc! I watched Allan Houston's runner to knock out the Heat before I came here! I CAN'T FEEL A THING!

DENTIST: Well, if you say so.

GUS: I gotta ask, Doc, WHICH TOOTH IS THE DIRTIEST? IS IT MY LATERAL INCISOR? TELL ME IT'S MY LATERAL INCISOR!

DENTIST: Uh, several of them could use a good cleaning. That's why you're here.

GUS: UNBELIEVABLE!

DENTIST: OK, just tilt your head back for me.

GUS: RISE AND FIRE, DOC!

DENTIST: Oh, looks like you've got some tartar buildup just under your gumline.

GUS: TARTAR STRIKES AGAIN! INCONCEIVABLE!

DENTIST: Let me just remove that for you. There we go.

GUS: DOCTOR YOU DEFINE CLUTCH!

DENTIST: Thank you.

GUS: Make sure you SPIFF UP MY MOLARS!

DENTIST: Your molars are fine. I'm almost finished. There.

GUS: How much is this appointment gonna cost me!

DENTIST: Check with my receptionist Linda up front, but it's usually around $135.

GUS: ONE-HUNDRED AND THIRTY-FIVE DOLLARS? UNFATHOMABLE!

DENTIST: It's not a cheap procedure, but it is worthwhile.

GUS: I'm not mad, Doc! I'm STUPEFIED BY OUR SKYROCKETING HEALTH CARE COSTS!

DENTIST: Yeah, it's pinching everybody right now. Anyway, have a good day and I'll see you again soon.

Gus walks out to the front desk.

GUS: MY APPOINTMENT IS ALL OVER!

LINDA: Why are you yelling?

GUS: Because I was a little nervous coming in! TREPIDATION! APPREHENSION! CONSTERNATION!

LINDA: Your bill is $134.67.

GUS: THAT'S THIRTY-THREE CENTS CHEAPER THAN WHAT DOC TOLD ME! DO YOU TAKE VISA?

LINDA: We sure do.

GUS: INCREDIBLE! IT TRULY IS EVERYWHERE I WANT TO BE!

LINDA: Thank you, Mr. Johnson. Here's your receipt. Have a nice day.

GUS: I SURE WILL!

Join us next time for more excitement with Gus Johnson.

I hate you, Chris Berman

Happy first day of the NFL season, folks! It's 8:30ish out on the West coast but I'm still up to watch the first bit of NFL coverage on ESPN. Oh, hey! It's Chris Berman! That reminds me!

I HATE YOU, CHRIS BERMAN. You're a fucking bigot, and there's no way around it. Your head is so far up the NFL's ass you're probably licking Roger Goodell's shit residue as we speak. When players fight in the NFL, you just brush it off and say it's a physical game. When players fight in hockey and baseball, they're just governing themselves. But when NBA players fight, they're gangbanging thugs who don't deserve our respect or attention. You're a piece of fucking work Berman, you know that? Everything about the NFL is awesome to you. Everyone in the NFL is awesome to you. Wake up asshole! Michael Vick went to jail for two years and aided in the murder of hundreds of dogs. Pacman Jones is a deplorable piece of shit who lives at strip clubs and treats the people around him like garbage. Chris Henry has been arrested more times than O.J. Simpson. Travis Henry has fathered so many children he might be your dad. FOOTBALL PLAYERS ARE JUST AS FLAWED AS OTHER ATHLETES. But it's OK because you have a million catch phrases that stupid people enjoy! And you give nicknames to players! And you've been with ESPN for all 30 years of its existence! Free pass! NOT FROM ME, JACKASS. YOU ARE THE FOREMOST PROPAGATOR OF THE NFL'S HEGEMONIC BULLSHIT. I HOPE I NEVER FEEL ABOUT ANYTHING THE WAY YOU FEEL ABOUT THE NFL, BECAUSE THAT WOULD MEAN I'M A NARROW-MINDED RACIST FUCKWAD WHO'LL PROBABLY DIE IN FIVE YEARS BECAUSE I WEIGH MORE THAN ANDRE SMITH. If I want to watch an amorphous blob pontificating about pro football, I'll wait for Peter King on NBC, thank you very much. I hate you, Chris Berman. Go fuck yourself with Tank Johnson's handgun.

EPIC STEELERS HATE

Think about all the different Web sites on the Internet. Think about all the different pages each site has. Now think about the history of the Internet.

In all likelihood, there have been more than one duodecillion (that's 39 zeroes, kids!) pages created in the history of the Internet. And I have singled out the greatest page of them all.

http://deadspin.com/5354828/why-your-team-sucks-pittsburgh-steelers

I dare not even quote any of it. Where would I begin? There's too much to quote. It's all well-written, it's all funny, and most importantly, it's all true.

The tough reputation of Steelers fans is the biggest crock of shit in sports. You give Browns fans a team that wins 10 games a year and consistently challenges for a division crown and always plays hard and has more Super Bowls than anyone else, and yeah, we'll pack your fucking stadium.

Steelers fans shouldn't be ashamed to root for that kind of team. They should be ashamed of being douchebags, because by and large, that's what they are. Towel-waving, mouth-breathing, dimwitted douchebags. And don't pretend you know what suffering is like because of the Pirates. So your baseball team sucks shit. Bet it feels good to have the Steelers to look forward to every fall, and the Penguins on a fairly regular basis over the past couple decades.

Try rolling out of bed without a championship in your lifetime. Try getting excited about a football team that has two winning records and zero playoff wins in the last 10 years. Try supporting a baseball team that keeps inventing new ways to choke in the playoffs. Try cheering for a basketball team that's finally gotten a transcendent superstar, only to be bombarded with talk of how he'll never win in that city and he's leaving next year because of it.

It gets old. Real old. And there are plenty of other fan bases with their own shit to work through.

Meanwhile, you're whimpering about the Pirates, who in all reality you stopped supporting well before they hit the first five years of their 17-year streak. You've been well below the National League average for home attendance in 15 of those years. That's pathetic.

Is that what you'll do when the Steelers start to suck? Turn tail and stop supporting immediately? Only now are you starting to see the Indians' attendance figures come down (and we're still above the league average). Only now are you starting to see the Browns games struggle to sell out. Sure, there are bandwagoners following LeBron James, and that's because he finally gave the city a legitimate reason to give a shit about the NBA.

Fuck your team. Fuck your city. Most of all, fuck you, Steelers fans. You don't deserve your football team.

Let that serve as a welcome to the 2009 season.

GO TITANS

Stroke of Genius: ESPN Hires Bruschi

ESPN's NFL coverage just got a whole lot more versatile, scrappier and whiter, as former New England Patriot Tedy Bruschi was picked up to join the already insufferable ESPN NFL crew.

Bruschi will no doubt offer a hard-nosed, cheater's perspective, and will more than likely be the most annoying member of the team within two weeks.

But There Was ONE SECOND LEFT

Miami 38, FSU 34.

K, that's good and all.

Why the fuck didn't the 'Noles challenge rather vociferously the ruling that time had expired after the third down incompletion when there was quite clearly one second left? The answer, of course, is that Bobby Bowden was too busy medicating his...

Oh Hey, We're Back

Why not boot this rust bucket back up in honor of the start of college football season. Let's do it the lazy, bullet-style way.

--BYU 14, Fuck you Stoops 13. BYU was on a mission tonight.

--The Papa John's commercial with Papa John and the Girl Scouts/Catholic School girls? And him delivering pizza out of a late model muscle car? What, was the windowless van unavailable?

--Iowa has to block two field goals to hold on against 1-AA Northern Iowa, Ohio State barely beats Navy, and Minnesota almost loses to a team with Greg Paulus at QB. Clearly, the Big Ten is the football conference most deserving of its own TV network.

--Pitt beats Youngstown State 38-3 and the fans boo lame-duck QB Bill Stull after his first incompletion. That's appalling behavior. At this point in his career, they should be throwing trash.

--Florida beats Charleston Southern like 800 to 3, but c'mon, Charleston Southern is the real winner here. They got to touch Tim Tebow in his house of worship. The fact that most of the touching was limited to futile swipes with fingertips is irrelevant.

--Penn State smashed Akron 31-7, but anyone that's seen a Penn State early season cupcake game could have told you the script before the game happened. Big first half, second half that cures insomnia.

--USC played San Jose St. and though it took them awhile, the Trojans caught fire and won in big. See what I did there? Fire? Because they play in L.A.? Yeah? Yeah? No? Okay.

--Brent Musberger appeared on TV in a racing helmet, and as one of my friends said, "Looked like one of the Nazis after they opened the Ark in Raiders of the Lost Ark."

--Big Ten Network receiver Kenny Jackson is my new favorite person on TV, even though he's too awkward to watch. While trying to interview Joe Paterno today, he basically screamed shit at Paterno and it barely made sense. This wouldn't be noteworthy save for the fact that he played for Paterno and was still that awkward. And his pregame report from the sideline, well, let's just never speak of it again.

Nothing important happened today

Yep, just another day in Cleveland sports. You know, a crappy team defeated the crappier Tribe. Fans are still talking about the recent Browns minicamp. Same old, same old.

But I'll probably have more about Wednesday's events later. Call it a hunch.

I hate Pittsburgh but I can't hate on this

I don't care who you are, that's good.

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

In response to DJMJ's turning the blog over to me--here is my celebration.


WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Wait a minute, that's not very classy, let's try again.


WOOOOOOOOO FUCK YOU HOSSA OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The Penguins are STANLEY CUP FUCKIN CHAMPIONS.



Bitch.

Another one bites my nuts

Oh hi there! How are you?

Me? I'm just slipping further and further into sports hell, thank you. I'm surrounded by Laker fans who are already celebrating the franchise's 15th NBA championship like entitled assholes who don't appreciate how lucky they are, and tonight I got to watch my favorite city (NOT) win the Stanley Cup title. Moreover, I lost a bet to a good buddy of mine and now I owe him an expensive bottle of liquor because Sidney Crosby won it all before LeBron James. But I can live with that.

Meanwhile, here I sit, increasingly frustrated and decidedly championship-less. I listened to a Laker fan the other day balk about suffering, about how he started rooting for the team during the "rough" times. Yeah, like that one year in the '90s the Lakers didn't make the playoffs. Right.

I responded with a vitriolic sentence or two telling him to shut the fuck up and scolding him about pretending to know what it's like to root for a loser. It probably seemed jerky at the time, but I don't regret it. Not for one second. I was born with a competitive gene. Sue me. I take sports very seriously. Not life and death, but still very seriously. If you're reading this blog, you probably feel the same way. If you don't think so, then you're full of shit.

As for tonight's events, I can't really hate on the Penguins. I don't like the hype that Sidney Crosby gets, but the Pens don't incite my ire like those fucking douchebag dickhole fuckface Steelers do. Still, a Stanley Cup for the Penguins means two titles in one year for Pittsburgh, and two titles in one year for Pittsburgh means one pissed-off DJMJ.

I can't help it. It's the Cleveland fan in me. It's petulant, it's bitter, it's jealousy. But can't someone be jealous of us for once?

I now turn the blog over to FLS, who may or may not choose to post in celebration.

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

....

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

More later.

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.