It’s weird enough that the basketball team that plays in Utah is called the Jazz. I’ve never been to Salt Lake City, but I’m preeetttyyy suuurrree that it’s not crawling with disciples of Miles Davis and Thelonious Monk.

Now, said weirdness is multiplied by the recent resurgence of Enes Kanter, which very well could ensure the continuance of a veritable Ottoman Empire at the Utah Jazz center position.

No, it hasn’t lasted 624 years, and no it hasn’t swallowed 32 provinces and all kinds of vassal states in Southeast Europe, Western Asia, the Caucasus, North Africa and the Horn of Africa.

But between Mehmet Okur and Kanter, the paint has been patrolled by a native of Turkey for the last 10 years.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

When you think of the Boston Celtics, you think about Larry Bird, Bill Russell, Red Auerbach, the Big Three of 2008, “now there’s a steal by Bird underneath to DJ he lays it in,” eight-straight titles, 17 overall, etc. Somewhere way down on the list, way way below Kevin McHale, John Havlicek, Reggie Lewis, and even Antoine Walker and Dominique Wilkins (yep, he led the C’s in scoring in 1994-1995), you think of Big Goofy White Guys.

Fred Roberts, Greg Kite, Brad Lohaus, Lou Tsioropoulos, Scott Wedman, Brian Scalabrine, Dwayne Schintzious, Mark Acres, Steve Kuberski … the list of useless big men of Caucasian descent who wore Celtic green is endless.

So while most of Boston cursed Danny Ainge for shipping Kevin Garnett and Paul Pierce to Brooklyn for three number one picks and a pile of garbage that included Kris Humphries, the move made complete sense to me. Except for two inflated seasons for a worthless New Jersey Nets team, Humphries is the protypical big white man at the end of the bench that has become a symbol of Boston basketball pride.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Before this NBA season I couldn’t look at Mike D’Antoni without thinking of Cy Tolliver, the second-tier villain on HBO’s “Deadwood.”

But I had no idea that D’Antoni would behave like his fictional doppelganger (played by Powers Boothe) and that he would turn the Lakers into the Bella Union Saloon, a place rife with rigged gambling, card games that end in gunfire, out-in-the-open prostitution and inexplicable frontcourt rotations. OK, maybe just the last thing.

There really seems to be no method to D’Antoni’s madness. Jordan Hill got some serious run at the end November and responded with some double-digit rebound games, so of course coach slashed his minutes down to the high teens by the beginning of December. Around the middle of the month he called Hill’s number again, and the results weren’t surprising: He produced some nice games, including a 21-9-1 on Dec. 16 at Atlanta. Now Hill is starting, but his minutes have been crunched down to around 20 per game.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

It was a mere two weeks ago that we were here, in this very space, talking about the living embodiment of a game of “Q*bert,” Nene Hilario.

We knew it was coming. Nene’s gone all screwy on us again, deciding that his foot hurt and that he would need to “step away.” Wouldn’t it be great to be able to do that at work whenever crap went bad? Eh, hey, sorry I messed up that TPS report boss, I think I’m just gonna “step away.”

The chief beneficiary to this mess is Trevor Booker.  Prior to Nene’s latest hiatus, which began three games ago, Booker wasn’t even listed on the Wizards depth chart.

Yet when Nene did his Nene thing coach Randy Wittman reached to the end of his bench and grabbed the beefy Booker. One of the geekiest-looking players in NBA history was rewarded: In the three games that Nene’s been out, Booker has averaged 16-11-1, including a monstrous 24-12-1 in a near-win against the Atlanta Hawks.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Maybe I’m just not into Nenê Hilario because of his name.

I can understand why he wanted to go from Maybyner Rodney Hilario to Nenê Hilario – his nickname as a youngster because he was the Nenê, or baby, of the family – although Maybyner is kind of a cool name and Rodney Hilario has a nice ring to it.

But now I’m way confused. Why is it no longer just Nenê but now Nenê Hilario? And why is it Nenê on second reference and not Hilario? And how come he only gets the accent sometimes (I’m giving it to him this time but usually I don’t). And wouldn’t you go with something more original, since there were three Brazilian soccer players who used the nickname, as well as a 19th century Bavarian princess? And wouldn’t you change Hilario, since it’s almost Hilarious, instead of the first two names?

A bigger question I’ve been asking myself is why did I drop Nenê earlier in the year. At the time I had way too many injuries, and no one was going to trade for a headcase injury risk with a revolving door moniker. Since then, of course, he has managed several huge games and some decent numbers, and I shame myself with a whip every morning for dropping him outright without at least riding it out a little. Don’t tell anyone.

Please, blog, may I have some more?