Yeah, you caught me. You didn’t believe it because there aren’t any grizzly bears in Memphis. Look how smart you are! ESPN readers would have tweeted the headline without thinking. Now if the headline read “Gilbert Arenas Fights Grizzly Bear In Vancouver” then you totally would have believed it.
Please, blog, may I have some more?Monthly Archives: March 2012
Jerryd Bayless had himself one hell of a weekend. He partied with porn stars in Vegas, he won big at the craps tables, he even married Kim Kardashian, only to divorce her 20 minutes later. Oh yeah, and he had lines of 28/9/6/3/1/3 on Friday followed by 29/6/2/4/5 on Saturday.
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I spent some time away from the computer yesterday. I needed a little me time, a little time for Josh to be Josh. So I got my favorite sandwich from Subway. Curled up by the fire with a glass of wine and my favorite John Grisham novel.
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Twelve weeks down six weeks left to go. Or if you’re a fractionista, you might say we’re two-thirds done. If you’re a percentagist, you might say we’re 67 percent complete. If you’re impatient, you might tell me to shut up and get on with it.
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I thought about naming this post “The Buck Swaps Here,” but then I realized that no one cares about the Bucks. Which means that Monta Ellis is dead to the NBA fan. It was a nice run. We all shared some laughs and we’ll remember the good times.
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Take a dozen games, a trade deadline and great seats to the Heat-Bulls game and what do you get? Really, peanut butter cookies? How did you get that using those ingredients? That seems impossible. What you should have gotten had you mixed it properly was one superduper tired blogger who’s going to have an update later this morning.
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“Sessions with Ramon” sounds like a show on public radio highlighting latin jazz fusion. That sounds like it may be interesting in the sense that if you’re driving in your car and you turn to the station (presuming you don’t have satellite radio or some sweet ass Pandora setup), you can expose yourself to some “world music” and consider yourself slightly more cultured.
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I may never forgive Corey Maggette for being just good enough that, when he plays 10 minutes and leaves the game with back spasms, I have to mention it. He knows how much I hate mentioning Bobcats! So here it is.
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Outside the NBA Lockout disappearing 16 games and the remaining 66 games being stacked on top of one another as efficiently as a Hell’s Kitchen slum, Ricky Rubio‘s injury strikes me as the saddest turn of the season. Just as the Thunder went from terrible to terrific in three seasons, it appears the same thing is happening in Minnesota.
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I like to think that once a year, people like Mike Scioscia, Mike Shanahan and Drew Brees get together at some dive bar in Montana and discuss how best to completely ruin the lives of fantasy owners across all sports. Want to have a closer by committee?
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