Jingle Balls

Aside from spiked eggnog and socking shoppers in search of savings on Black (Eye) Friday, nothing puts us in the holiday spirit like a seasonal song, whether it's about an affair with an intruder or a reindeer with road rage. We don't what Kris Kringle list we're on this year, but we do know what's on our playlist: this catchy jingle. We're so infatuated with the instrumental that we find ourselves adding lyrics, like, "Oh, what fun it is to shoot in a five-hoop open gym" and "bells on Bobcats' tails ring."

Unless James Harden dyes his beard white and puts on a fat, not form-fitting red suit, this is the most yuletide thing you'll see NBA superstars do (Dionte Christmas dressing as Father Christmas and DeMarre Carroll singing carols don't count). The ditty is so pretty, it made us forget that one-third of the players participating in the merry music-making won't even be wearing a uniform - sleeved or otherwise - come the Christmas quintuple-header. Who knew dogs barking the tune could be topped*?

*Don't you dare say the ballad bashing Batman is better.

Constellation Prize

What do you buy a man who can afford almost anything? If you're scholarly Shane Battier, brainstorming ideas for the Miami Heat's Secret Santa exchange, the answer is obvious: a telescope*. That's the present Battier gave Chris Bosh. Other items received by players included wine, a painting and designer luggage, so Bosh might not be over the moon about his haul. We're sure Bosh will find space for it in the back of a closet (or, if he likes it, his observatory^).

Of course, if Bosh wants to see stars, he should look on the court, not up at the cosmos. When we think about it, a telescope is probably a better bounty for LeBron; he can use the device to stare at Saturn, looking longingly at all its rings.

*because a rock tumbler would be tacky.
^ perhaps his new hobby will lead to a friendship with fellow hoopster and astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson Chandler.

Airborne Jordan

Talk about sick pay. A pair of Michael Jordan's sneakers - or should we say "sneezekers?" - from his famous influenza game* in the 1997 Finals sold at auction on Thursday, shattering the record for game-worn shoes by selling for over three-times the previous high, set by another set of MJ's used shoes. Bidding, like Jordan during that game 5 victory, was feverish, with the winner consenting to cough up $104,765 in cold cash.

The seller was a former Utah Jazz ball boy, who said Jordan rewarded him for fetching him applesauce (imagine how much memorabilia whoever serves Jordan his snacks when he enters a retirement home will receive). The buyer's identity hasn't been made public, but whoever it is certainly is a wealthy collector. After all, you can't spell "affluent" without 'flu.'

*Years after the fact, Jordan's trainer alleged his Airness's illness was due to food poisoning from a pizza (Jordan later learned his lesson by always ordering the same two toppings: pepperoni and Pepcid). This could be true, since Jordan was living in Chicago, his body had likely not tasted a traditional, non-terrible pie.

The NBA: It's Fantatastic!

One shouldn't cry over spilled milk, the saying goes, but spilled soda is a different story - especially when the cola in question winds up costing you $50,000. Jason Kidd's soft drink took a hard fall with 8.3 seconds left on Wednesday with the Nets down by two and out of timeouts. Kidd mouthed "hit me" to guard Tyshawn Taylor as he was coming off the court, causing Kidd to Sun Drop his drink and use the cleanup time to strategize with his squad. At 4-10, he was thirsting for a win. Kidd got himself out of one sticky situation by initiating another.

This incident is exactly why former mayor Michael Bloomberg attempted to ban big beverages. He was unsuccessful and so was Kidd, as the Nets still lost and the coach was fined $50K for behaving like a soda jerk. Kidd has asked the league to put it on his Tab. We've learned the play he was designed was a pick and pop. A contrite Kidd has promised not to try the tactic again unless he's 7Up.

The Right Stuff

We're well aware that we've been less active than a middle-aged Midwesterner* (we've still been away less time than Greg Oden - and can jump higher), but we're back and so is a beloved b-ball show from the nonpareil nineties. So dust off your denim overalls (leaving one strap unsnapped, of course) your Starter pullover jacket and your Fila high tops because NBA Inside Stuff is back on the air, after an 8-year absence. The influential infotainment show ran from 1990-2005, first on NBC, then moving to ABC in 2002.

After binging on Saturday morning cartoons (there was no such thing as too much TMNT), it was time for the host whose name rhymed, Ahmad Rashad, and the willowly Willow Bay to catch the viewer up with what players did on the court, then capture what they were like off the court. Rashad was capable of getting chummy with even standoffish stars. If Myspace had been around at that time, he'd have even more friends than Tom.

The program resumed on November 2 on NBA TV and the anchor seats are now occupied by eye candy Kristen Ledlow and brain candy Grant Hill. Will this revamped version be a hit with virgin viewers? We're not sure, since kids today probably don't understand the term "rewind" (we've tried to explain that it's what you had to do to VHS tapes before you could return them to the video store, but those whippersnappers didn't know the words "VHS," "video," or "store"). So, the main question becomes: Who will be Grant Hill's "main man" each week? Keep in mind, Grant, that a bottle of Sprite doesn't count as a person.

*we were busy working on our no-help, self-help book, Master Your Mediocrity!, the follow-up to the failed Achieve Your Averageness! and pitching our game show for the Food Network, Wheel of Fortune Cookie, where buying consonants is more critical than vowels (hosted by China White, aka Kelly Hu).

Snickers for Halloween

On the night Rip City turns into R.I.P. City, here are the Top 5 spookiest NBA player names, which are not for the meek (or Jodie Meeks):

1. Carlos Boo-zer
2. Jarrett Jack-o'-lantern
3. Pau Ghoulsol
4. Fright Howard
5. Jared Deadly

Punners-up: Marcin Goretat, Michael Beastly, Bradley Zombeal, Jason Terrory

Inter Play

Steve Nash, as always, is going to put his best foot forward, but this time it'll be on the pitch, not the parquet. The prototypical passer, Nash couldn't pass up an invitation to tryout for Inter Milan. The soccer squad is in the states for a week-long, eight-team international tournament and Nash will take the field today in New Jersey, the second-most Italian place in the world.

Futbol fervor is in the family for the MVP, whose papa played professionally. Nash is also a part-owner of the Vancouver Whitecaps in the MLS (we've heard they grow great grass, but we're not sure our source meant the stadium's)*. Suffice it to say, Nash is going to get a kick out of this experience.

Just 10 days ago, Kobe Bryant toured and received treatment at intracity rival club AC Milan's training facility. Between Nash, Bryant and Gasol, L.A.'s three best players have a better chance of winning a title with the Galaxy - the back-to-back defending champions - than the Lakers. After all, it's better to be the sweeper, than the swept.

*She also reported their supporters' scarves are made strictly from hemp, but Mary Jane's memory is a little hazy.

Kings of Le(Br)on

DJ LJ is in the house. However, he's not kicking out the jams, so much as picking them out. LeBron James is the "music curator" for the video game NBA 2K14 , slated for release on October 1. LeBron's taste in tunes is eclectic, as the genres range from the rock of The Black Keys and Imagine Dragons, to the rap of Drake and the now punctuation poor Jay Z (he's an agent of change who won't be hiring any hyphens), last year's song selector, to whatever you classify the clatter Coldplay churns out as (looks like the only jazz in the game will be Utah).

We don't know if there are any cover songs, although we do know James is also on the cover (suffice it to say, he's an instrumental part of the game). The playlist sounds promising, still we have one recommendation for roundball's royal ruler: "Down with the King" by Run-D.M.C. Who better to supply the soundtrack for the King than three guys from Queens?

Free Wet Willy

Delonte West can't put his finger on why he's out of work, but we bet Gordon Hayward can. West was dismissed from Dallas for detrimental conduct before the start of last season. In an interview with Slam, West pointed his saliva-free finger at the media for maligning him, which he's concluded contributed to his canning by Cleveland and Boston. "They've made me into the Terminator," West whined. He has a point - both are known to carry firearms.

Comparing himself to the cyborg character, it's no wonder West is vowing, "I'll be back." He's has had his "Judgment Day" and is now seeking "Salvation." Although he's had at least as many chances as the films have spawned sequels, we're willing to give him another one - in the year 2029.

Minnow-mum Effort

It's currently cloudy in Philadelphia - at least over the Wells Fargo Center - and the future is foggy, too. The 76ers have a new general manager, Sam Hinkie, which may explain why things seem somewhat hinky with the franchise.

They are the sole club in the Association still sans a coach. They traded their lone All-Star on draft day for a injured one-and-done collegian whose return date is unknown. In a press conference Tuesday to introduce Nerlens Noel, the only player they've added this off-season, Hinkie said he won't rush the rookie or hasten to hire a headman. Hinkie has sat still longer than Edward Snowden (who has put the 'terminal' in "interminable stay").*

This team is thinking about tanking more than an aquarium just furnished with a freight of fresh fish. Hinkie's slowness to sign a single free agent signals that this season the Sixers will sink to the bottom of the Atlantic division. In other words, Philly will likely be leagues below the rest of the league.

*the difference being that Snowden surely has acquired some duty-free goods by now.

Show and Tel Aviv

For years, Ama're Stoudemire has been a man in the middle, but in the last several off-seasons, he has been a man in the middle east. In 2010, he traveled to Israel for a week to research his Hebrew heritage. This year, he and a band of businessmen have submitted a bid to buy the basketball team Hapoel Jerusalem and he has helped coach the Canadian team at the Maccabiah Games, an event for Jewish athletes held every four years, which we're now nicknaming the "Oy-lympics".

Because of the mensch's many mitzvahs, Israel's President, Shimon Peres, said "shalom" to Stoudemire last week and personally asked him to play for the national team. Stoudemire last suited up for the stars and stripes in 2007 and was a member of the shanda squad at the 2004 Olympics, for whom bronze might as well have been bupkis.

Should Stoudemire be swayed by the schmoozing, he'd light up the scoreboard like it's a menorah (and likely get burned on defense like a candle). Even if he says "feh" to the feeler, Stoudemire will still have best "How I Spent My Summer Vacation" essay in The Association.

He's Adamant(ium) About It

For most of his career, no one has been able to cover Kobe Bryant. Lately, no one can recover like him. Bryant tore his Achilles in April, but Lakers VP Jim Buss believes he'll be back by the preseason in October, meaning the heel will have healed in a superhuman six months. Given Kobe's potent regenerative powers, it's a wonder he wasn't cast as Wolverine instead of Hugh Jackman (the latter does have the acting chops to match the requisite mutton chops). But Bryant's boss could be wrong; after all, when does a Buss ever stay on schedule?

Having been shunned by Dwight Howard and shrewdly stepped back from signing Andrew Bynum, the Mavericks settled on stopgap Samuel Dalembert, who will suit up for his fifth team in as many seasons. Decks of cards at casinos have been shuffled less. Sorry for hatin' on the Haitian, but Dalembert is softer than camembert.

Talk about a dis-Funch-tional relationship. Six years after filing for divorce, Dwyane Wade and his ex-wife, Siohvaughn Funches finalized a financial settlement. Wade, who has already been paying Funches bunches of cash, $25K per month, which covers a casa and a quartet of cars, will shell out a lump sum of $5 million. That works out to one mill. per year of marriage. Who says love don't cost a thing?*


*That's the last time we listen to Jennifer Lopez and/or Nick Cannon.

Send Them the Bill(ups)

After killing Blake Griffin softly on TV last month (he might've wished for a second take to take back his words on First Take), Chauncey Billups discovered he has a soft spot for the team he took to a title nine years ago (for the record, nice guys can finish first; see: Robinson, David). Traded away in 2008, Billups was content to be back in destitute Detroit, a city that officially declared itself bankrupt yesterday. It's safe - and sad - to say the wheels have fallen off in the Motor City.

Jesus Chrysler, that place needs to be saved by an almighty force (not the federal government, this time). Our idea for the municipality to make money is for Mayor Dave Bing - who by the way is in the basketball Hall of Fame - to take on the middle name "Microsoft" and schill for the search engine. In all seriousness, there is no simple solution for rescuing a region reportedly $18-20 billion in debt, so be sure your checks clear, Chauncey.

Charlatans in Charlotte

If Michael Jordan asks, "O brother, where art thou?," while at work, the reply will be, "Yon, in myn cushy office, which thou hast graciously bestowed upon unworthy I."* MJ has promoted his older sibling, Larry Jordan, to Director of Player Personnel, a position unoccupied since 2009, when it was held by MJ's former college roommate (his RA must've felt so slighted). Larry's prior title within the organization was the vague Director of Special Projects (we picture him making dioramas of DeSagana Diop). Maybe Jordan's bro has what it takes to fix the broken Bobcats. The Bobcats are broken, but can Michael Jordan's bro fix them? He'll need to be more hands-on than his famous family member, who tends to favor a Hanes-on approach.

It's all relatives with the Bobcats. Two previous head coaches, Bernie Bickerstaff and Paul Silas, hired sons as assistants, President of Basketball Operations Rod Higgins' lad played 44 games in parts of the last two seasons, and Associate Head Coach Patrick Ewing's boy is currently on the summer league squad. Two of "His Airness'" three offspring also have jobs with the team he owns. With that in mind and Larry now assuming a larger role, we await the appointment of Moe and Curly.

*supposing they speak in Middle English.

Miller Plight

Less than a month ago, Mike Miller was putting on his second NBA champs cap; on Tuesday, he was putting on a brave face as a casualty of the salary cap. Fewer than four weeks have passed since Miller, in game six of the Finals, swished a shot without a shoe, yet he's been shooed from the shores of South Beach due to the stiffer luxury taxes penalties slated to start this season. Owners, like contestants on The Price is Right, really want to avoid going over the amount, even if it means letting go of players like Miller, who rained seven threes on the Thunder during game five of the 2012 Finals. From now on, the only buddies from The Heat Mike Miller might see are Sandra Bullock and Melissa McCarthy - and they'll be on the silver screen, not coming off of screens.

Miller isn't the only man who has more time for movies. The Bobcats were doubting Tyrus Thomas (now his career is in need of a resurrection), Drew wasn't Gooden enough for the Bucks* (a conclusion eight other teams had come about the vagabond veteran), and it was the end of the line for Linus Kleiza with the Raptors (maybe carrying around a blanket would bring this Linus comfort, too). If Keith Olbermann can re-surface with ESPN, these guys can catch on in new cities (that's where the sports expression "it ain't olber, 'til it's olber" originates).

*if that was Gooden's last stop, at least he owns a Wingstop.

Leave It (Ko)be

Kobe Bryant said he won't "waste time" determining why Dwight Howard escaped from L.A. like he was Kurt Russell*. As is true of most Americans, he prefers to waste his time on Twitter. The only follow-up Bryant's interested in is from his surgeon, who cut Kobe deeply in a way Howard never could.

Speaking of Howard, the Rockets intend to employ Hakeem Olajuwon as a center mentor. Would that be a "centaur"? If so, don't play H-O-R-S-E against him, Dwight.

Although he hasn't seen action since 2009, Greg Oden is drawing interest from a few franchises, including this season's finalists, Miami and San Antonio. To obtain him, one team might have to get on bended knee, which is more than Oden can manage to do.

Derrick Rose is in Spain and feeling no pain. In Madrid advertising Adidas apparel, he told reporters his health is "100 percent" and that he'll "definitely" play in Chicago's first preseason game, the date of which hasn't been released yet. We can't wait to Rose running with the Bulls again.

*Surely, Snake Plissken would stand with the "Black Mamba."

Amnestied, International

Metta World Peace wants to be a world traveler. He's out of the Lakers plans, after the L.A. decided it couldn't keep the Peace, waiving him under the amnesty provision Thursday, and he might be out of the country soon. The 14-year forward has spoken to Yao Ming about playing for the Shanghai Sharks.

China has certainly come across and cared for crazier: J.R. Smith during the lockout and Stephon Marbury, who's been balling in Beijing and burgs beyond for three seasons, collecting a championship for one club (Starbury's working towards a Ducks dynasty). Despite being cut, Peace is keeping his chin up and may need a chin strap to fulfill future plans. "I want to go to China or coach or play arena football," he chatted about his consequent calling.

So, even if Peace doesn't join the Shanghai Sharks, he could still suit up for the Jacksonville Sharks. Apparently, taking the floor - or field - with either team would mako him happy (and we wouldn't put it past him to strap on some skates for the San Jose Sharks).

*If loose cannon Rasheed Wallace can clutch a clipboard, going from pissed to Piston, there should be a spot on a staff somewhere for a slugger of sloshed Detroiters (we wish it had been Kid Rock that he cold-cocked).

Movable Feast

We're not calling this free agency period 'weird,' but face this fact: Will Bynum has a contract and Andrew Bynum doesn't (guess the latter hasn't been bowled over by a bid). Josh Smith is the one citizen in the country who could be convinced to move to Detroit. $54 million was motivation enough to hoof it from his hometown to the region where robots are also cops. At least someone can afford to shop at the city's initial Whole Foods (he and Matthew Stafford will have the aisles to themselves).

Meanwhile, Monta Ellis has come to the conclusion that Fried isn't good for him. That would be agent Jeff Fried, who Ellis fired today. Ellis, who opted out of his deal with the Bucks that would've paid him $11 million next season and declined a $36 million extension with Milwaukee, is unhappy with the he's received so far. Few teams remain who can provide the payday the career 19-plus-points-per-gamer is pursuing (if Ellis is in desperate need of dollars, he should head over to the nearest Taco Bell). In other words, Ellis might be on an island for awhile.

The Warriors are getting Iggy with it, completing a sign-and-trade for swingman Andre Iguodala after the Kings said "nah, nah, nah, nah" and withdrew their offer (we know, we know, that joke bombed as badly as Will Smith's After Earth). Golden State moved as quickly as Iguodala does on a fast break to get him, but had to leave Jarrett Jack and Carl Landry curbside, like they were Golden Corral grub.


Morning Star: Speaking of food, Dwight Howard made a good first impression with the first meal of the day, buying breakfast Tuesday morning for everyone eating at a Houston restaurant where he was being interviewed by a local TV station. We didn't see what Howard ordered, but we're certain he had waffles (Lakers supporters suspect he ate eggs benedict Arnold).

Sweathearts

The star of Thunderstruck is now lovestruck. Kevin Durant is engaged to Monica Wright, a guard for the WNBA's Minnesota Lynx. The couple in 2006 at the McDonald's High School All-American Game, so "I'm lovin' it" eventually bloomed into I'm lovin' you.

Both were the second overall selection in their draft class. However, for their careers, Durant averages 18 more points-per-game - 26.6 vs.8.6 - so he should spot her a few baskets when they play one-on-one. Although Wright stands 5'10", she still needs a step ladder to smooch her fiancee (put that on the registry), who's almost a foot taller.

Maybe now that Durant has signed with Jay-Z's agency, he's abiding by Beyonce's advice to put a ring on it. We hope that this Wright woman is the right woman for Durant.


Editor's note: We actually attempted to learn more about her, but the Lynx media guide wouldn't load; we're probably the first person who tried to view the pdf.

Mission: Control Center

Our apologies to Dwight Howard, you probably didn't finish your summer reading* because he took less time to decide than Jason Kidd did to receive a tech as a coach (or if you prefer a political parallel, less time than for democracy to dissolve in Egypt). Howard is headed to Houston, perhaps in part due to a persuasive pitch from actor Jim Parsons. We posit that Dr. Sheldon Cooper offered Howard his sacred spot on the sofa; we call it "The Big Man Theory."^

There was a law to Howard's motion. For his action, there was an oppositional reaction by his equals. Howard is $30 million poorer for his pick with one fewer Twitter follower and also one ticked off Turkish teammate. If the Rockets give Asik some space (in parsecs), he may come around. Howard boldly took less bucks, but will be expected to give more bang than last season.

*we did, but ours was mostly picture and flip books.

^bazinga!

Greivis and Butthead

While we all wait for Dwight Howard to make up his mind - and you might complete your summer reading before that happens - there have been a torrent of tinier transactions, including two three-team trades. In the first, the Clippers shored up their outside shooting shortcomings, snatching J.J. Reddick from the Bucks and Jared Dudley from the Suns in exchange for one guy who wasn't getting any playing time, Eric Bledsoe and whose best days are behind him, Caron Butler. Reddick and Dudley both averaged career-bests in PPG this past season. Milwaukee received a pair of future second-round picks and not re-signing Reddick, which would've been wise since Monta Ellis opted out, signals that they'll probably overpay Brandon Jennings, so as to not lose the top three players in their backcourt (the team can't allow them all to Milwaukee away).

The Kings are staying in Sacramento, but Tyreke Evans is not. The 2009-2010 rookie of the year took a step back this year, averaging career lows in points and assists, while splitting time with Isaiah Thomas (the one with the extra vowel, not the one Knicks faithful want to disembowel). Evans was dealt to the Pelicans for Greivis Vasquez, who was third in the league in assists per game last season, a stat so sneakily surprising it should be sponsored by Ripley's Believe It or Not! (New Orleans won't grieve over the loss of Greivis because his vacancy will be filled by Jrue Holiday, fourth in APG, obtained on draft day) The Blazers received Robin Lopez, the twin whose hair is more electric than his play. Even if the big man doesn't do well in Portland, his 'do will.

With an assortment of additional acquisitions anticipated, there's no reason to let Dwight's dithering take the enjoyment out of free agency like Joey Chestnut takes it out of eating hot dogs*.

*chew, you gluttonous garbage disposal, chew

Zero Our

Rookie Shabazz Muhammad may very well by a fine addition to the Timberwolves, but his addition is far from fine. First, he couldn't calculate his actual age, which the L.A. Times learned in March was one year older than he had been claiming. This week, the 14th pick in the draft convinced us he can't correctly count.

At his introductory press conference, Muhammad said he selected the jersey number zero because, "Nobody wears zero in the league, so I might as well wear zero." That's simply naught true.

According to our computations (completed on our trusty TI-85 after we used it to type out "8008"*), 15 players last season - including fellow former Bruin Russell Westbrook and rookie of the year Damian Lillard - donned the digit. First-year pros are expected to have some struggles, but not sum struggles.

*you can take a man out of middle school, but you can't take middle school out of a man.

Harvard Yard Sale

The Celtics are having a clearance. Everything old must go. Veterans were priced to move and so they did. One power broker had no problem purchasing pre-owned pros.

Days after the Celtics were left to operate without Doc, GM Danny Ainge decided to dissect the team himself (forgetting to administer anesthesia to the fans), amputating an appendage in Paul Pierce who's been a primary part of Boston for 15 years . Truth is, we thought "The Truth," who ranks first in three-pointers made, second in scoring and third in games played on the organization's all-time list, would get to retire having had one home. Instead, he was evicted, along with Kevin Garnett and Jason Terry; meaning there are three new rental properties in Brooklyn.

Unlike the inhabitants of his borough, Nets owner Mikhail Prokhorov is not a thrift shopper. He bought two big ticket items, including "The Big Ticket." The 69th wealthiest man in the world according to Forbes isn't bargain hunting - he's hunting for a championship. Spending c-notes on a couple of C's will be worth it if they win it all.

How(ard) Come?

Independence Days arrives a little earlier in The Association than it does in America. At the stroke of midnight Sunday, teams were free to strike deals with free agents. With Doc in Hollywood, the Clippers have found the cure for keeping Chris Paul. Houston is again going all out, like a fireworks fanatic on the fourth. Instead of a sending up a red flare, the Rockets set up red flair for the biggest one - literally and figuratively - Dwight Howard (they blasted Thomas Robinson,Carlos Delfino and Aaron Brooks right off the roster to clear cap space).

In addition to meeting with the owner, GM and coach, the posse persuading Howard included players past and present: Chandler Parsons, James Harden, Clyde Drexler and Hakeem Olajuwon in-person, Yao Ming via teleconference (Yao, who was calling from China, is so tall we're classifying him as a "Skypescraper"), and Dikembe Mutombo by means of a videotaped message (we wonder whether he wrapped with a finger-wagging warning not to sign elsewhere). All they were missing was George Zimmer to tell Howard he would like the way he looked in a Rockets uniform - he guarantees it.

If that trinity of centers didn't make Howard feel like the center of attention, no one will, although it also highlights that the Rockets, like the Lakers, have a long line of long-limbed legends. Howard plans to visit the Hawks, Mavericks, Warriors and the Lakers, so we'll see if sending choice recruiters helps him make his choice any faster. We expect this to take more time - and involve more flipping - than grilling on charcoal.

*it's unknown if Houston told Howard he would like the way he looked in a Rockets uniform and, more crucially, guaranteed it.

Oh, Canada?

What the Canuck? Thursday night, Anthony Bennett became first man from the maple syrup motherland to be drafted number one overall. The Cavs rebelled by choosing the Runnin' Rebel, who remarked, "I'm just as surprised as anyone else." (we can't confirm that his initial reaction was "me, eh?") Defying the draft diviners, Nerlens wasn't the first Noel or even the second or third, slipping all the way to sixth, as teams shied away from the injured freshman like sponsors have from Paula Deen. He was subsequently shipped to the Sixers for their All-Star point guard, so Noel and (Jrue) Holiday are words that remain associated in The Association.

The murkiness of where prospects would play was masked by the merriment of two men who have been at odds at times. Bill Simmons the supplied the jokes (who knew he could be funny on television? His humor has been hidden on ESPN's ho-hum halftime show) and David Stern the jeers, egging on boos in Brooklyn like he was a WWE heel (apparently, it's the heckling he'll miss most of all). Even though the stars were dull, the proceedings weren't, thanks to them and employing a current player, Shane Battier, to conduct the immediate interviews was another improvement.

It was a dream come true for all the young men selected, so it was fitting end to the first round and Stern's final draft night to bring "The Dream' onto the stage, the top player picked in 1984, which was the inaugural draft the commish presided over. Hakeem beamed and so did Stern. A hearty handshake and a hug are exactly what we would offer Stern for his three decades of his legendary leadership.*

*blogging doesn't bring in boku bucks

Sign Language

In an effort to retain free agent Dwight Howard, the Lakers have draped a banner over the side of the Staples Center with a photo of him (dribbling the ball?) and one word written across it: Stay. This command would work well if Howard were a compliant canine, but he's proven to be a roving Rover (although he did follow top dog Kobe's in-season order to "play," not "sit").

L.A. also put up a billboard on Hollywood Boulevard, so the team doesn’t think This is the End of his time in Tinseltown. However, there are indications that Howard wants find out what he can fetch on the open market. Don't make them beg, Dwight.

The Blueprint for Success?

Kevin Durant, who shot a career-best 51% from the field this season, connects well on Js; now, he's well-connected with Jay-Z. On Monday, Durant signed with the rapper's nascent agency, Roc Nation Sports, becoming the first male hoopster to hop to the hip-hopper. Our reaction to him flowing to the fast flower: Jigga what?

Durant is the most unassuming superstar in The Association, but maybe that's the point. Perhaps he wants to raise his profile, so the bashful basketball player teams with the brash businessman (in this partnership, Durant brings the "big," Jay-Z the "pimpin'").

Durant isn't in line for a new contract until after the 2015-2016 campaign and currently holds seven endorsement deals (even making bread from Panini America, which weirdly doesn't make bread), so this seems to be a move made to boost his popularity, not profitability. Still, there has to be an easier way to hang out with Beyonce.

TechCrunches

Everything worked out this season for Dwyane Wade. This off-season, you'll be able to workout just like him. "Driven", which sadly is in no way tied to the 2001 Sylvester Stallone motion picture where he was a Champ car racer, is an app that features training videos in which Wade demonstrates basketball drills and exercise routines. It was released yesterday, costs $3.99 and is customizable*. We have one question: Does it require Flash?

*should you sweat all over your smart phone using it, be sure to wipe your device down with an Enduracool towel.

Moet Money

A $100K bar bill would send most people to the poorhouse, but not the proprietor of a pour house. The big story following the Heat seizing their second straight title is how much they spent on spirits at Story nightclub. The partying players ordered 103 bottles of champagne, including three priced at $3K apiece. In case you were curious about consumption, that works out to almost 7 bottles per baller on roster, so someone was swigging, not sipping (act like you've been there before, Jarvis Varnado) All of it was comped by the club's owner, who clearly has cash to burn (is it ironic he lavished it on the Heat?). He's aware that you can't spell "dominance" without 'dom.'

Backpacks have been banned from the Heat's championship parade today. The security measure should deter terrorists and Kevin Durant from showing up.

Heat Stroke

Pushed to the perimeter, LeBron James had the touch. Perched on the perimeter, so did Shane Battier. Positioned in the post, Tim Duncan temporarily lost his at a very inopportune time. As a result, the Miami Heat are touching the Larry O'Brien trophy for the second time in two years.

A dejected Duncan said his miss will forever "haunt" him, but he wasn't one who played like a ghost of his former self. Manu Ginobli couldn't handle the ball, the most terrible of his turnovers took place with 23 ticks to go and the Heat ahead by 4, while Chris Bosh couldn't handle the moment and was so much of a non-factor the spelling of his last name should be altered to "B0sh", to brand him as a bum for his 0-5, 0-point outing. He told the faithless fans who exited early during game 6 not to come to game 7, then didn't bother to attend either(at least he follows his own advice).

While Bosh didn't show up, James, in contrast, showed up the Spurs, scoring 37 points, draining five three-pointers in the process, as Battier, a role player on a roll, swished six, enough to qualify for the honor roll. James hit half of his attempts from outside, while all of Battier's attempts were from beyond the arc with a sparkling 75% success rate. Dwyane Wade too had a field day, shooting 50% from the field, finishing with 23 points and 10 rebounds. He neither made nor took any threes in the game, but now owns three rings. Wade has reaped the rewards of recruiting James, while LeBron has refurbished his reputation. Both lacquered layers of luster to their legacies. No two ways about it, the LeBron and his Heat are two-time champions. To repeat, is to re-Heat.

It's Not Over(time) Yet

Game 6 was as confusing as it was competitive. Tim Duncan dominated the first half, scoring 50 percent of the Spurs 50 points, then disappeared. LeBron stunk for three quarters, then starred in the fourth. Tony Parker seemingly shut the door for San Antonio in the last minute of regulation, then Ray Allen swung it open again for Miami. Allen, who had half of the Heat's points in overtime, provided a Ray of hope.

The back-and-forth battle unfolded uniquely and it left us with lots of lingering questions. Where did those blocks from Chris Bosh come from, was the one on Danny Green a foul, and would that have been called if the game was in the lone star state? Was that a travel by Ginolbi or was he fouled? Why was Duncan, who had 17 rebounds, removed with 28 seconds to go, which allowed the Heat to grab a pair of offensive rebounds that they turned into two threes that tied it. Was this a collapse by the visitors or a comeback by the home team (one whose fans couldn't be bothered to stick around to see). Should the loss be pinned on Popovich or the players? Was LeBron's headband hindering him from reaching his full potential?

We also have questions about the Finals, in general, such as: Why wasn't Mark Jackson invited back into the broadcast booth? (including him would've been a "grown man move" on the part of ABC) Why are only children crooning the national anthem? And, of course the question all of America, and really, the known world, is anxiously awaiting an answer to: Why don't we know the name of Kim and Kanye's kid yet?

Whether the Spurs let it slip away or the Heat snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, they'll have one more game to sort this seesaw series out. Let's hope it's similarly sensational.

What's Up (with), Doc?

The Doc is incommunicado. Doc Rivers is undecided about whether he wants to return to the Celtics. Rivers has given media and management the slip, staying out of range of Danny Ainge, but George Karl, Lionel Hollins and Vinny Del Negro - who all took their teams to franchise-record wins this season as well as playoff berths - were handed pink slips. Karl was even awarded Coach of the Year honors, but now he'll have ample free time to construct a case for that trophy. Karl has overcome cancer - twice - however, he wasn't give the chance to overcome the Nuggets first round loss. They all did great jobs and yet are out of jobs.

The Association's postseason slogan is "Win or Go Home,"; ownership's appears to be "Win and Go Home - and Stay There." Owners are exercising judgement as poor as Atlanta radio rabble-rousers. In throwing their skippers overboard, these clubs have all gone overboard.

Reports are leaking - surely, Eric Snowden is the source* - that Rivers, who has three years left on his contract, will basically receive a cross-country transfer to the Clippers along with Kevin Garnett, in exchange for DeAndre Jordan. Even if this is what Doc is ordering, where not sure it's what the doctor ordered for either team. Should the trade be made, Rivers will will be "the hopper" Beantown backers bad-mouth.^

*it would make sense for a whistle-blower to have info on another whistle-blower.

^ to summarize: skipping commercials is good, skipping town is bad.

Press Start to Play Well

All it took to get Manu Ginobli started was for the Spurs to start him. The one-time Sixth Man of the Year wasn't among the first five in any game this year, but Gregg Popovich inserted him into the lineup and Ginboli immediately ingratiated himself with his coach and teammates. Ginboli began by sinking his - and the game's - inaugural basket, then assisted on San Antonio's next two baskets, on his way to a season-high 24 points, coupled with 10 assists.

The Heat were within striking distance - down four with a little over two minutes left in the third quarter - when Ginboli struck back, by scoring 7 of his squad's subsequent 9 points - and assisting on the other - to build the lead back up to 12. Prior to Ginboli ginormous performance, he was half the Manu he used to be, averaging 7.5 points and shooting 34.5% from the field, but following a pep talk from Pop before game 5, he, ahem, Manued up.

Ginboli, who they weren't aware was on the court during this series, had excellent court awareness on Sunday. He kept finding his teammates for threes as Danny Green swished six to set record for most three-pointers made in the Finals, surpassing the antecedent amount, appropriately, by three. The camera captured Ray Allen, the previous holder of the mark, scratching his head on the Heat's sidelines, looking stupefied and sullen. You could almost hear Allen thinking to himself, "Who the hell is this dead-eyed dude?" The simple answer is: a guy you have to guard 25 feet away from the bucket because Green drained one from there with two defenders on him. The Heat might have to triple-team this tremendous triple-maker. When Green and Ginobli both have great games, that's some serious 'G'-force that the Heat may be helpless to halt.

Heatseekers

The search for Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh can be called off. They were found - or, more accurately, they found themselves - in San Antonio last night, at approximately 8 p.m. central time, and it wasn't a moment too soon. The Heat's backs weren't against the wall, but they were inches away from it. Erik Spoelstra started a smaller lineup, but it was the "Big Three" who made a big difference, putting up Brobdingnagian numbers. Wade surpassed and Bosh equaled their highs in points this postseason, scoring 32 and 20, respectively. Bosh went after the boards, with 13, while Wade went after the ball, stealing it six times. He was a bandit among the band of brothers.

LeBron James too, regained his form, like superstar Silly Putty. James came to the game dressed in camouflage, but his contributions couldn't have been more conspicuous: 33 points and 11 rebounds. Critics who feasted on James, like a Wendy's worker at a milkshake machine, for faltering in the Finals are full of it (and we don't mean Frostys). When James, Wade and Bosh all play this purposefully, they are a tri-force.

Mind Your Tamper

A Hawks sales pitch made the league's front office pitch a fit. The Association has issued a fine to the franchise, as well as two undisclosed others - reportedly the Kings and Rockets - for tampering because a mailing sent by Atlanta to ticket buyers mentions, by name, the foremost free agents the club is pursuing, which is a no-no.

A sentence in the letter speculates, "The possibilities of landing Chris Paul & Dwight Howard become more and more of a reality." Listen to them, confusing conjecture with confirmation, like a certain cable channel in that city*.

Both players, who clear out coaches the way Game of Thrones does characters, are still under contract with their respective teams until July 1, which means until that date, the league will be watching Atlanta like a Hawk.

*Its slogan: Respected by peers, except Piers. By the way, Anderson Cooper 360 disappointingly doesn't involved an airborn anchor executing a body-spinning slam.

Spurs Trip(le) Up the Heat

If the NBA Finals were Sesame Street, the shooting show that was game three would've been brought to you by the number three. The Spurs set a Finals record from beyond the arc, swishing 16 three-pointers, which is beyond comprehension. As in game two, there was another thrashing in the third quarter, but this time the Spurs were the ones doing the spanking, not being spanked. The result was a 36-point whooping, the third largest in Finals history. Everything really is bigger in Texas - even the blowouts. Even Count von Count grew tired from ticking off the 16 (ah, ah!) treys.

Dwyane Wade and LeBron James were mere mortals in the presence of Danny Green and Gary Neal, who sunk seven and six threes, respectfully - and remarkably. Neal and Green's buried so many deep baskets, they buried Mike Miller's 5-5 display from long distance - 23 feet, 9 inches deep. Physics teaches us that two objects cannot occupy the same space, but basketball tells us that two men can occupy the same zone. Green and Neal were in it comfortably and their sharp shooting gave San Antonio a comfortable win.

Neal had a buzzer-beating bomb before the half, to give him 14 points, one for every minute played, midway through the game. He contributed 10 more before his night was over. He hit back-to-back threes to begin the fourth, followed by a behind-the-back pass to Kawhi Leonard for a dunk and added an assist to Green for another triple, to cap a 13-0 run.

Neal's threes had company. Green, who was a flawless five-for-five on far away field goals in game two, picked up where he left off, stroking seven of nine to top all scorers with 27. In his first Finals appearance, Green isn't playing like he's green; he's totaled six more points in the series than his former Cavs colleague, LeBron. Neal and Green were so locked-in, if Chad Johnson wasn't in locked up, he'd give them both a pat on the posterior.

Grant Writing

From co-rookies to co-retirees, for two of the greatest of their generation the sun has set on their careers, which is appropriate, since both are former Suns. Grant Hill determined he was over the hill, declaring his departure over the air on TNT Saturday, June 1. Jason Kidd realized he wasn't a kid anymore over the same weekend, after attending a wedding, following Hill the following Monday. Selected one pick apart in the 1994 draft, they showed they're still in lock-step - even if they're a step slower - 19 years later.

Time is the only thing that passed as consistently as Kidd, seemingly sculpted of Stockton stock, sans short shorts. Kidd stood out for sharing in an era of selfish point guards. He was a throwback who didn't hesitate to throw Games are divided by quarters, however Kidd's games were united by dimes. He also stole like a member of The Bling Ring. Hill was poised, as a point-forward, to be the statistical and spiritual successor to Magic Johnson, with a personality as polished as his game. He could set up shooters or score as smoothly as he could sell soda or sneakers (or, more recently, social messages). They controlled offenses, but beyond Hill's control were a concerning collection injuries, which claimed close to 500 games. The ex-Blue Devil had a devil of a time staying healthy.

What's tremendous and true about the twosome is their talent was exceeded by their toil. Hill worked hard to rehab, Kidd to develop a jumper. Hill rose again in Phoenix, like, well, a phoenix, while Kidd rose the historically hapless Nets to consecutive trips to the Finals. These guys were walking triple-doubles and it's wonderful that they're walking away on their own terms, under their own power. Enjoy the stroll to Springfield, sirs.

Split(ter) Ends

For the majority of three quarters, LeBron James hadn't done much of anything. He then proceeded to do a little bit of everything. The Heat went on a ridiculous 33-5 run with three minutes left in the third that covered eight minutes of game time and bridged the third and fourth periods of play. James, who was 2-12 from the field until that point, went 5-5 during that stupendous stretch. Miami started down one, but was ahead by 10 points at the end of three. The lead had grown to 24 when Gregg Popovich pulled his starters with 7:43 remaining. Unlike John Malkovich tending to a Toronto tourist, the Spurs couldn't stop the bleeding.

In the 40 seconds before the Spurs bench was brought in, LeBron assembled a sensational sequence, wherein he made an emphatic, full-palm LeBlock (trademark pending) on Tiago Splitter, whipped a pass soccer throw-in style to Ray Allen in the corner for a three, and snuck free for for a two-handed, strong side slam that he threw down like security at the French Open final subduing a protester. Thanks to a insane interloper at the major tennis tournament, the Spurs weren't the only ones caught off guard Sunday by a sudden flare up.

Miami hasn't dropped back-to-back games since early January. The Spurs will need more out of their trio as the series shifts to San Antonio for a trio of games. The Spurs will live with the split and Splitter will live with the rejection. His teammates have been around the block, so hopefully they'll help the third-year center get over the block.

French Kiss Off the Glass

The bank was open late for Tony Parker - it was after 11:30 pm ET and there were 5.2 seconds remaining in the game - and he made a direct deposit . Parker almost lost his dribble, he definitely lost his balance, but he never lost his composure, as he went under and around LeBron James to launch his shot to give the Spurs a four-point lead that would hold. Parker tallied 10 of his game-high 21 points in the final frame and Tim Duncan shook the rust off from a scoreless first quarter to contribute 20 points to the wobbly win.

The Heat, who wasted a triple-double from LeBron - the 10th postseason one of his career - had as many turnovers in the fourth quarter as they did field goals: 5. That number was more one more than San Antonio committed in the entire game and more than twice as many transgressions as Miami made in the first half.

As a result of Parker gathering himself, the Spurs gathered their seventh straight win and improved to 7-1 on the road in these playoffs. They also advanced to 5-0 in the first game of the Finals. None of those numbers nor the homecourt heist are encouraging to the Heat, due to the 2-3-2 format. That's not to say the Heat are licked liked a stack of Taco Bell shells yet.

Tony Parker stumbled, then recovered. The Heat did the former, but it remains to be seen if they'll do the latter.

The Tim(e) is Now

Nine years and not one, not two, but three championships separate a set of future first ballot Hall of Famers scheduled to square off Thursday in what should be a Finals for the ages - which could also be a Finals for the aged Spurs and their steady, stoic sergeant (yes, we regard him as both an officer and a gentleman). Both stars in the series have been awarded Finals MVP, as well as multiple league MVPs, scaling hoops heights matched by the One World Trade Center. At 28, LeBron James has reached the prime of his career. At 37, Tim Duncan has reached, well, a prime number and - to those who appraise age before ability - is a prime candidate for retirement.

If these are Duncan's golden years, he's been equally Au- and awe-inspiring. It's said Father Time eventually catches all, but he's had difficulty chasing down Duncan (we know which one has run more baseline-to-baseline sprints), who was named to the All-NBA First Team this season for the first time in five years. Duncan, already a Renaissance Man courtesy of a degree from Wake Forest, underwent a roundball Renaissance, recording his highest averages in points and rebounds since 2009-10. Additionally, Duncan's blocks per game were his most dating back to 2004-05. This postseason, he became the first player to ever tally 500 playoff blocks.

Now, Duncan has to come up with his biggest block ever: preventing the game's greatest presently (according to everyone except one bozo at the Boston Globe) from winning a second straight championship. The task will be more challenging than hearing Michael Douglas talk about his theory on what caused his cancer because the window of winning is closing for these Spurs; it's a porthole, compared to a bay one for the Heat. We know Duncan will crash the glass - he might crash through it, too.

Animal Trapping

To motivate himself, Roy Hibbert scrawled the phrase "I'm an animal" on his sneaker. Consider the Miami Heat animal control. Hibbert had a team-high 18 and 8, but it wasn't beastly enough, as Miami caged his cohorts, putting his peers in the pound, to pound the Pacers and capture a third consecutive finals appearance. Chris Bosh, back when he had braids, may have looked like Predator, but LeBron James was the post-season predator, attacking to attempt 16 free throws, amass 32 points and maintain his hold on the record for scoring average in playoff game sevens of 33.8 PPG.

The other word Hibbert wrote was "focus." Ironically, the Pacers lacked it. 15 turnovers led to a 15-point halftime deficit. Indiana finished with ten more turnovers than Miami. David West's respiratory infection might explain why he coughed up the ball six times. Things didn't "Come Together" for Paul George, who fouled out with 7 points.

It was up for LeBron James in the second quarter - he hopped so high on an lob from Norris Cole that he had to duck his head to avoid hitting the rim - and then away for the Heat, who outscored the Pacers 33-16. A go-kart - even a souped up one - can only keep up with a formula one car for so long and when the Heat finally hit the gas, they lapped the Pacers with ease.

James left with over five minutes remaining in the game, getting to kick back and being greeted by a celebrity in the crowd who knows something about kicking, David Beckham, on his way to the bench. Flo Rida was also in attendance and perhaps his presence got Wade back in the flow. Wade finished with 21 points and 9 rebounds, including 6 on the offensive end, a flashback to the "Flash" of old.

Attempt to DestROY

Roy Hibbert isn't feeling the heat of being in the Eastern Conference Finals for the first time; instead, the Heat are feeling him. In this series, Hibbert has broken out like pimples on a pre-teen. In five of the six games, he's scored 20 or more points and shot 50 percent or greater from the floor. He's doubled his scoring average from the regular season and his 29 points in game 2 topped his high from this year. Hibbert has been inflating like a 7'2" inner tube and if Miami doesn't contrive a way to constrict him tonight in game 7, they'll be the ones lounging poolside.

We'll give it to you straight, since that's how Hibbert likes it - he and the Pacers have reduced the Heat's "Big Three" to LeBron and a tiny two. Consequently, James' supporting cast has collapsed like a garment factory in Pakistan. Ray Allen can't hit a shot (13-46 on field goals) or even a free throw. Shane Battier is missing jumpers and Chris Bosh is just plain missing: 19 points and 12 rebounds total in the last three games, which means his mug should make milk cartons in Miami. Meanwhile, Dwyane Wade is getting touchy about his amount of touches. Games three through six have been nightmares for him not induced by Kevin Durant, nor endorsed by Gatorade in those always-airing ads*.

Hibbert has had help. Paul George, who we like to call one-half of the Beatles, has blossomed into a bonafide (Ringo) star(r). With almost identical back-to-back performances, he's piloting the "Yellow Submarine" that has nearly torpedoed the Heat. It's no wonder James slapped Paul's hand at half court after the pair traded tough baskets during game 2. However, that gesture doesn't mean James is willing hand the series over; he's respectful and relentless. After all, a King is not easily overthrown.

*could Wade's struggles be linked to a buildup of brominated vegetable oil in his system? Bromine is a flame retardant.

Hand Down, Manu Down

'Never leave your man,' coaches preach to defenders, especially when guarding shooters. Mark Jackson should've told his players never leave Manu, either. Manu Ginobli, wide open, took a cross-court inbounds pass and connected on a three-pointer with 1.2 seconds left in the second overtime period, of what was the second multiple-overtime game of the playoffs, to complete a Spurs comeback Monday.The Spurs rallied from 16-points down to send it to OT numero uno, while the Warriors wasted a 44-point night and 22-point third quarter from Stephen Curry. The Warriors are, in tennis terms, love-30, since Love Day 1997, on the Spurs home floor. Never mind remembering the Alamo, does anyone actually recall the last time the Warriors won in San Antonio? Think it's no big deal that Curry was in elementary school and Tim Duncan in college? What if we told you Notorious B.I.G. was still alive in those days*? And if you wanted to own his music back then, you had to get off your duff, go to Sam Goody and buy a damn compact disc (look it up, you ignorant iTuners).

Ginobli, 4-19 before his final shot, resembled Lauryn Hill's (also popular in 1997) tax returns: mostly missing. "I went from trading him on the spot to wanting to cook him breakfast," Gregg Popovich reflected, on his roller coaster of emotions, referring to Ginobli's bad miss beyond the arc just 42-seconds before his winner. "I'll have an omelet with mushrooms," Ginobli cracked back, egging his coach on^. Both could joke because things turned out sunny-side up for the Spurs.

*Did we just "Hypnotize" you with that fact?

^Tony Parker has put in an order for crepes.

Throw Momma from the Gravy Train

Like many moms, Pamela Bryant had held onto her child's boyhood belongings: trophies, plaques, sports uniforms. However, her son's stuff is actually worth something because he happens to be Kobe Bean. Even mushy Moms eventually throw out or give away goods not gathered by grown-up kids, but when she decided to store no more, her intent was to sell. Money was the motivator. It seems she wanted new digs in Nevada and her stingy son wasn't willing to dig deep enough - $250,000 was his limit* - so she got in contact with a New Jersey auction house that agreed to advance her $450K. Goldin Auctions offered the golden opportunity to ruin her relationship with her offspring.

Among the 900 items slated for sale in June are several high school jerseys, two All-Star game rings and a pair of championship rings produced precisely for his parents. The lot is valued at $1.5 million. Can this Lower Merion family fued sink any lower? Yes, same way any situation can: by bringing in lawyers. Kobe's attorney issued a cease-and-desist letter, while the auction company countered by filing suit against Kobe. If no resolution is reached, a collector could hit the mother lode of Pam's son's memorabilia.

* a mere quarter-million, isn't he aware that Mother's Day is in less than a week?

A Good InFLUence

Feeling ill early on Wednesday, James Harden was excused from the Rockets morning practice. Come game time, it was only his shot that was - as the kids say - sick. Harden swished seven threes, three more than he had made through the first four games of the series, on his way to 31 points. Harden may have been battling a cold; however, his shooting was anything but, as he drilled 10 of his 16 field goal attempts. Harden said he spent the day sleeping, yet it was his old teammate Kevin Durant who drifted off late, going scoreless in the fourth quarter.

Harden's rapid recovery is just as surprising as the Rockets, who staved off elimination for the second straight time and get to head home for game 6. Maybe there's a mini-medicine cabinet in that bushy beard.

Iggy Pop

Andre Iguodala scored a game-high 25 points, adding 12 rebounds and 7 assists in a do-it-all display. He and the Nuggets starters, who all reached double-digits, showed their "Lust for Life," as Denver sustained the series with a win. After the game, Warriors coach Mark Jackson popped off about Stephen Curry getting popped: "They tried to send hit men after Steph." Nonsense. The only Assassin's Creed the Nuggets swear by is the video game. There's nary a ruffian on Denver's roster; the Nuggets are good fellows, not Goodfellas.

Jackson accused Denver of "some dirty plays," yet it was Golden State who was whistled for two flagrant fouls, while none were called on the Nuggets, who committed just two more personal fouls than the Warriors. The coach can comfortably blame the Nuggets for hurting the Warriors locker room, but not their players. After his team lost three straight to form a three-games-to-one hole metaphorically, Sunday a frustrated Kenneth Faried created a hole physically. If Denver climbs out of it, a wall won't be the only thing the Nuggets end up booting.

Outspoken

Until yesterday, the most fascinating fact about 12-year transient center Jason Collins was that he had a twin brother, Jarron, who also played professional basketball. Not anymore. On Tuesday, Collins became the first male athlete in one of the four major sports to disclose that he is gay prior to retiring, in an articulate, assured essay he wrote for Sports Illustrated that will be the magazine's cover story.

Now that Collins has come out, he's received an outpouring of support. The athletic director at Collins' alma mater, Stanford, and the owner of the Washington Wizards, the team Collins most recently played for, applauded the admission. Players ranging from rookie Bradley Beal to 15-time All-Star Kobe Bryant to his aptly named ex-teammate Rudy Gay offered words of encouragement*. Warriors President Rick Welts, who came out in 2011, praised Collins, as did the sitting U.S. President, Barack Obama, along with former POTUS Bill Clinton. Almost all who shared sentiments stood by Collins. Shane Battier suggested Collins' sexuality, like his skin color, shouldn't matter. "Whether he is straight, gay, black, white, from Earth, or from Mars is immaterial," was Battier's down-to-Earth attitude. He's correct. The Association has already accepted a Martian: Dennis Rodman.

Collins career might have come to a close and it doesn't have to do him with coming out of the closet. His contract is up and he's 34. He has been on a half-dozen teams and was traded in season this year. His twin's time ended two seasons ago. He played in only 38 games in 2012-13, averaging one point and one-and-a-half rebounds in 10 minutes, which is not far off his underwhelming career averages of 3.6 ppg and 3.8 rpg. Even if his stats stood out, Collins' contributions on the court would be nothing next to those he has made - and will make - to the gay rights movement. Those are immeasurable.

*"Home of the free because of the brave," Gay tweeted, making us wonder if hooping in Canada has caused Gay to forget the lyrics to "The Star-Spangled Banner."

InNate Ability

Here's what you missed while attending Michael Jordan's wedding:

A pair of players proved you don't have to be large to be in charge. Stephen Curry scored 22 in the third Sunday, 19 in a span of less than four-and-a-half minutes, shaking off a sore ankle and Denver defenders, in a Warriors win. Nate Robinson was one better the day before, posting 23 in the fourth, a point shy of MJ's franchise mark, during the Bulls triple-overtime victory. Robinson has been involved in some of the season's most incredible contests; scoring 14 to halt the Heat's streak in March, then 35 earlier in April to knock off the Knicks run. He finished with 34 in the game of the year. Despite his diminutiveness, no one will dare short-change him as a game-changer. "I always think I'm on fire, kind of like the old school game NBA Jam," Robinson explained. Coincidentally, Robinson is doing exactly what that arcade hit did in the '90s: dominating quarters.


Sweeps is underway in television and in The Association. The Heat were the holders of the regular season's best record and the second-longest winning streak in league history, while the Bucks were the only team in the postseason with a losing record, so that series had "4-0" written all over it and anyone who thought otherwise was named Brandon Jennings. He predicted Milwaukee would win in six, but we think that was probably after he the guard gulped six Old Milwaukees.

Dwight Howard exited early on Sunday, maybe so he'd be home in time to see The Simpsons, the only family more dysfunctional than the Lakers this season. Howard was ejected in the third quarter for arguing, but even he wouldn't dispute that the Spurs were the superior squad. "Obviously, it wasn't a fair fight," Gregg Popovich empathized, alluding to the Lakers being two Steves and a snake/Twitter tactician short. Like Jones-Sonnen, it wasn't a fight at all. The last time the Lakers went winless in the first round was 1967. In other words, they hadn't hit bottom since bell-bottoms. The difference being the jeans flared out, whereas this year's Lakers flared up.

The Rockets Patrick Beverley will always remember his first career start - unfortunately, so will every single Thunder fan. On Wednesday, Beverley logged 16 points, 12 rebounds and 6 assists, and did more damage than he ever intended, injuring Russell Westbrook lunging for a steal while Westbrook was calling timeout. Westbrook had appeared in 439 consecutive games and never missed one in his five-year career until Saturday, when he had surgery on his right knee that will sideline him until next season. Beverley, who received death threats from a Thunder ball boy, is now a lightning rod because he didn't just inadvertently hurt Westbrook, but also Oklahoma City's championship chances. All basketball buffs, not only Oklahomans, hope Westbrook gets well soon(er).

Macaroon Five

Metta World Peace is always willing to field questions and it appears he had Mrs. Fields on his mind when addressing Spurs coach Gregg Popovich's prowess. "I just know he draws up plays where he could have five old ladies after they eat 14 boxes of chocolate chip cookies. He'll put them on the court, and they'll win. That's how good Popovich is*," Peace praised. We agree. Heck, Popovich could probably do it using oatmeal raisin (gotta make sure those grannies are getting enough fiber). The key ingredient is shortening, which is also what the Spurs are doing to the Lakers postseason.

*We hope Pop baked an extra special batch for Tim Duncan's 37th birthday yesterday.

Bring in 'da Funke

Unlike most people, Cavaliers Dan Gilbert would like to put the past in front of him. On the sidelines, specifically. Cleveland has rehired Mike Brown to be their coach. Brown, downsized in 2010, is trying the job on for size again. He returned for second stint on Tuesday, agreeing to a five-year contract. "To me, it just fits perfect like a puzzle," gauged Gilbert*, whose team has been trying to pick up the pieces since Brown's dismissal. What's puzzling is why Brown was let go in the first place. Cleveland made the playoffs in all five season Brown was at the helm. Three losing seasons in a row were enough to prompt Gilbert to rejigger the jigsaw.

Maybe after Brown's new deal ends, he'll rejoin the Lakers for five more games. Or, perhaps LeBron James, in a remorseful "Re-Decision," will come back his old club in 2014. That's about as plausible the cast of cult comedy Arrested Development reuniting seven years later to produce new episodes. Wait, that's happening next month? We're Gob-smacked. We guess you can never say "never" (but feel free to say "never nude" as much as you'd like).

*If said puzzle was given up on, taken apart and then forgotten for several years.

Pointer Taken

These first four days of the playoffs have found us busy trying to track down the lesser-known Tesh brother, Dave, so we could collaborate on a new network jingle. Before anyone rashly reaches for the miniature hammers and gasoline, here's a breakdown of the ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-basketball so far by the numbers:

1 Injuries suffered by an All-Star and team captain after David Lee tore his hip flexor Saturday. Lee is out for the remainder of the playoffs.

1 Injuries suffered by TNT's studio stars after Shaq pulled a muscle walking to the desk on Tuesday. He then slammed on the set's hoop to show he wasn't hurt - and then probably put an Icy Hot patch on the area afterwards.

2 Game winners, both by point guards: Denver's Andre Miller, who confessed he's never hit one at any level, and L.A.'s Chris Paul, who nonchalantly noted, "I looked up at the clock and thought I better get a shot off."

3+ Months since the Nuggets last lost at home, prior to Tuesday's defeat. Denver's previous setback, one of only three at the Pepsi Center all season, was January 18.

3,17 Baskets made, compared to free throws made, by Paul George, out of 13 and 18 attempts, respectively. George finished with a triple-double: 23 points, 11 rebounds and 12 assists. Most Improved, indeed.

64.6 Field goal percentage the Warriors shot in their game 2 win, including 56% on three-pointers, the highest in a postseason game since 1991, which predates rookie Harrison Barnes' (9-14 for 24 points) birth.

23 Total points the Celtics in the second half Tuesday, two fewer than they tallied after halftime in Sunday's loss. The Knicks nearly tripled the Celtics production in the third quarter last night, outscoring them 32-11.

Incalculable Lazy jokes made about the Rockets "rolling over" or "dogging it" in light of the Thunder's halftime entertainment during a 29-point rout. Our advice: Houston should just setter that game aside

What Even a Doc Can't Heal

According to an overused analogy, the 82-game season, which spans six months, is a marathon, not a sprint. Consider that comparison cruel in New England, where the word "marathon" has been forever marred in Boston after the atrocious attack that occurred during the city's most celebrated competition. In the aftermath of the bloody bombing at the Boston Marathon on Monday, the association took the appropriate action of canceling the Celtics home game scheduled for Tuesday. However, the league should have gone one step further and eliminated Wednesday's contest from the calendar as well, which was the Celtics last match before the playoffs start on Saturday. A one-day mourning period isn't long or respectful enough. The NBA regular season is unlike the renowned race: there was no reason to finish.

There's something a bit abnormal about attempting to get back to normal immediately. Life shouldn't stop, but it should take a prolonged pause. Instead, the Celtics, whose seeding was already set, were forced to leave and grieve on a jet plane and trudge to Toronto, where their 24-point defeat to the Raptors was just as irrelevant as the Raptors have been in 2013 (and really since '08). The Celtics didn't throw in the towel - they were too busy using it to dab their damp eyes. Their bodies were in Canada, but their minds never made it across the border, while their hearts, like those of all Americans, were with the 179 victims. In times of tragedy, sports can provide a reprieve from the repulsive reality, but not when that tragedy has transpired at another, higher profile sporting event. A different athletics cliche claims, "Every game counts." That ceases to apply when there's a body count.

Put It On His Tabby

Metta World Peace often leaves people to wonder what he meant. Even more so when he quoted a one-hit wonder. Asked after Tuesday's win how he managed to play only a dozen days removed knee surgery, he kept repeating, "I'm too sexy for my cat," a lyric from the 22-year-old tune, "I'm Too Sexy."* No one in their right mind recites Right Said Fred, which explains why World Peace did. Since reporters didn't catch the reference, his strange shout-out to the song wasn't so (rico) suave.

Meanwhile, teammate Kobe Bryant was feline frisky Wednesday, scratching and clawing his way to 47 points in 48 minutes for a victory to cat-apult the L.A. ahead of Utah. He hopes the Lakers aren't too sexy for the playoffs because missing them would be considered a cat-astrophe.

*Peace was topless while answering questions, thus confirming that he's also too sexy for his shirt.

Birthday Pinch

No one was on watch when Chris Bosh left his house last week; consequently, someone left with his watches. Bosh was out attending his 29th birthday bash - which involved live camels*, belly dancers and fire eaters (no word whether the third entertainer was actually Chris Andersen taking a tiki torch to his tongue) - when his place was plundered. A dozen timepieces, worth an estimated $300K, were taken. That's enough to send someone into G-Shock.

In total, approximately $479,000 worth of jewelry, handbags and cash were stolen from his closet, although Bosh's championship ring was spared. There were people in the abode at the time, two babysitters caring for Bosh's children, so the alarms weren't activated. This, in addition to no indications of forced entry and how the contents were carefully combed through, leads law enforcement to suspect it was an inside job. The thief made it seem simple: Walk in to the walk-in, then walk out.

All told, it wasn't a happy birthday for Bosh, unless he was given about a half-million dollars worth of presents at his party. If so, he'd have at least broken even after the break-in.

*and here we thought the Heat had gotten over the hump already.

'Do As They Say

It's fair to say that Iman Shumpert is "all in" for Adidas*, since he shaved the sportswear seller's symbol into the back of his head. The Association, which doesn't allow other companies' logos to be displayed anywhere besides sneakers, told him to cut it out, figuratively, and he obliged, literally. On Friday, it was fresh and visible, but by Sunday (adi)zero of it remained. The matter quickly became a case of hair today, gone tomorrow.

Because the league's front office got bent out of shape, there's now a triangle-shaped spot missing from his mane. Regardless of if it's a right triangle, the removal doesn't look right. In the two games since he's been to the barber and back, Shumpert is a combined 0-9 from the field and hasn't score a single point^, so the rough patch isn't confined to his coiffure.

*and he even returned to action in a timely manner after tearing his ACL, unlike another endorser, who's waiting for a sign from the big man - and we don't mean Joakim Noah.

^those are the only type of New York bagels that are bad.

Four Loco

L.A. can contain crazy things better than any other city in the country (see: scientology, Gary Busey). Now it must brace for a bizarre basketball imbalance. On Sunday, the two Los Angeles squads squared off for the fourth time this season and for the first time since the team set up shop in L.A., the Clippers swept the Lakers off their shared floor. With the win, which was a franchise-best 51st, the Clippers clinched the Pacific division title, a feat they had yet to accomplish. Before, the only banner at Clippers games was sung, not hung (it was star-spangled). The victory put the Clippers 11 games in front of their long-term tormentors, who through the years have cast a shadow over them more often than Tim Burton has cast Johnny Depp*.

The red-headed step-child is doing it thanks to a red-headed, step-over-you-to-slam, does-commercials-where-he-communicates-with-himself-as-a-child: Blake Griffin. And the reversal of fortune couldn't have happened without the reversal of the trade of Chris Paul, the gold standard of point guards, who was on his way to the purple and gold two years ago, before his Buss route was suspended by the commissioner. The natural-born leader and the natural-born leaper showed there's a second shakeup in L.A. that doesn't involve late-night comedians, as Paul produced 24 points and 12 assists, while Griffin posted 24 points and 12 rebounds. "It means that we're headed in the right direction, but there was no cake, no champagne popping or anything like that in the locker room," the composed Paul commented. Despite the dearth of Dom Perignon and desserts, the Clippers are getting their just deserts - while sticking a dessert fork in the Lakers - and that has to be sweet.

*those were Dark Shadows, to be sure.

The Born Identity

This is what it sounds like when babies cry. Paul Pierce has named his newborn "Prince." The tot, who entered the world on Tuesday, is Pierce's first son and third kid overall, yet Pierce plans to propagate the royal family further, saying, "still going for five or six more." That'll be a labor of love for his wife in multiple ways. We don't know if the wee one's handle is in honor of the musician or the racket manufacturer*, but we bet he can make a racket. We wonder how long until the rugrat is referred to as "the infant formerly known as 'Prince'?"^

*We suppose there's an outside chance the lil' slugger is called Prince after the Detroit Tigers large slugger.

^Also, does Power Wheels make a "Little Red Corvette?" And do Pampers come in purple?

Girl Scouting

Mavericks owner and Shark Tank star* Mark Cuban views the NBA draft as a bear market, and he's got one Bear in mind - a Lady Bear from Baylor. Cuban is contemplating being a Brittney Griner signer. Griner, second in women's college basketball history in scoring and the all-time NCAA leader in blocked shots, is the presumptive top pick in the WNBA draft, but Cuban can see his club choosing her in the second round. "If she is the best on the board, I will take her," Cuban contended. We assume he's talking about Dallas' draft board, not his personal Pinterest one.

At the very least, Cuban pledged he'd invite her to Summer League tryouts. Cuban's an investor, investors take risks and there's no better place to make a gamble than Las Vegas. "We wouldn't be doing our job if we didn't consider everyone," Cuban claimed, which includes giving a fair shake to the fairer sex.

Is this lip service or lib service? In his comments, Cuban comes across as an equal opportunity employer. It's possible he doesn't want to miss out on talent, even if it's a player who should be addressed as "miss." With 18 career dunks to her name, the 6'8" Griner can shatter a glass backboard, so perhaps she can shatter a glass ceiling, too.

*which is sadly not a show that forces contestants into a habitat with hammerheads; instead, participants search for great white entrepreneurs, who have the gills to pay the bills.

Fifty Sent

Technically, Tuesday's Heat-Knicks game was indoors, but Carmelo Anthony spent the evening playing outside. Anthony equaled his career-high 50 points grandly gunning the Knicks to their ninth straight victory. Anthony sank seven threes, while facing only one-third of the "Big Three" of the Heat, wresting a win away, while James and Wade were resting. Anthony shot 69% from the floor, including 70% from long-distance, to help his team go the distance. Amazingly, all 18 of Anthony's baskets were from 15 feet or further away from the hoop. None of his attempts were at closer range than that, either. Anthony was so zeroed-in on putting up points that he had zeros in every other category until the third quarter, proving you can be both a hero and a zero simultaneously.

The stat line of the night belonged to Anthony, but the line of night was drolly delivered by Shane Battier, who was given the task of guarding the skilled scorer: "It's an inopportune time to announce my candidacy for defensive player of the year." At this point, we'd estimate Battier, like Anthony's favorite field goal, is a long-shot.

Eight is Enough

March Madness has mutated into April Absurdity in Los Angeles. Dwight Howard thinks the Lakers have an elite eight run in them, believing they can go undefeated in their octet of remaining games. The Lakers haven't been on schedule all season, but that didn't stop Howard from scanning the schedule and seeing a sweep. "We should win all these games," Howard assured, affirming that L.A. athletes are just as delusional as actors (which is why it makes absolute sense that Metta World Peace can call himself both*).

While on the subject of 'should,' the Lakers should have larger than a two-game difference between their total wins and losses, and should have sewn up a postseason spot weeks ago; instead, they're a half-game behind Utah for the final berth. The path to perfection is implausible because it ignores that the Lakers longest winning streak of the season was only five games and occurred months ago, back in mid-December. Furthermore, five of the upcoming contests are against opponents already in the playoffs. However, one factor in the team's favor is that if this is a last stand, it will at least be a home stand, with every game tipping off in their own arena. The Lakers may be at home, but they're far from home free. Staples slogan, "That was easy," won't be words these Staples Center occupants will be saying anytime soon.

*The Eleventh Victim thespian is currently the victim of a lateral meniscus tear

No Withholds Barred

Sunday night's battle between the Eastern and Western Conference's cream of the crop was supposed to be about who was playing. It turned out to be about who wasn't. LeBron James and Dwyane Wade were given the game off versus the Spurs and if something seems off about that, recall that on November 19, San Antonio sat Tim Duncan, Tony Parker, Manu Ginobli and Danny Green against Miami. There's no need to scratch your head as to why they were scratched from the lineup; the move was retaliatory. The Spurs were fined $250K, which is a lot of scratch, as the league established a "No Parking" prized players in prime-time precedent. The league has to level similar sanctions in this case. James and Wade were given a break, but Miami can't be.

Officially, LeBron was listed as having a hurt right hamstring and Wade a right ankle injury, but with Rory McIlroy in attendance, Erik Spoelstra might as well have written down "toothache" on the report. Maybe their tummies hurt from eating too much Easter candy*. Or perhaps they got lost during an egg hunt (so much for the buddy system). Whatever the reason given, it's as fake as the plastic grass that lines baskets during the holiday. The day before April 1, the Heat weren't fooling anyone.

*They weren't made available for comment after the contest, so not a peep(s) was heard from them.

The Butler Did It

No Rose, no Noah, no problem. The Bulls, who at times resembled the Bears, the way they twice tackled LeBron James, in their extinguishing of the Heat's red-hot roll, six short of the all-time record. However, it wasn't a 3-4 defense, rather a 3-forward offense that got the job done. Jimmy Butler (17 points, 1 stirring slam over Chris Bosh), Carlos Boozer (21 points, 17 rebounds) and Luol Deng (28 points) came up big against the big three. "Wow" was back in the lineup after missing two games, but the wow factor came from those playing for - and in front of - his home city.

Miami had a low number of turnovers (13, five fewer than the Bulls) and a high number of blocks (12), so something was lost in translation for "El Heat*," as they're known during Hispanic Heritage month in The Association, because those stats would suggest a favorable result.

The 1971-72 Lakers can breath a sigh of relief, their streak is safe, although those players have been gracious, not grudging. The same can't be said of the 1972 Miami Dolphins, who are known these days for pettiness as much as perfection. No less than the logo, Jerry West, feels the Heat lit an eternal flame, "People will talk about this forever." You can't win them all, but for February and most of March, the Heat did and it sure seemed like they could continue to do so. Yes, the streak is gone, but it also lives on.

*Spanglish, one of the romance-y languages

Basketball (on the) 101

Caution: objects in mirror are closer than they appear. Except if you're the Lakers and that object is the playoffs. On Monday, the Warriors mostly cruised in a win over the Lakers - they were ahead by 25 in the third quarter - but Dwight Howard believes David Lee was cruising for a bruising. Howard was struck by a Lee elbow in the second quarter and although his lip required three stitches, it didn't halt Howard from running his mouth during the game - he received a technical on the play - or after. "I will remember that shot. I will take care of it later," Howard vowed. Pump the brakes, Tony Stewart, this isn't NASCAR, even thought this year's Lakers are the most overrated and undeserving of attention entity in sports outside of Danica Patrick.

Howard declined to take the high road and so did Golden State coach Mark Jackson. "We are the better basketball team. They are in the rear-view and I have not checked it and I will not," Jackson asserted. We know exactly what Jackson's driving at (or should we say away from?). The Lakers, only one game in front of the Jazz for the final place in the playoffs, need to find another gear and fast.

What a Day(ton)

On Monday, there was an upset, but this shocker wasn't delivered by Wichita State. It came courtesy of a gulf coast team, although it wasn't Florida Gulf Coast*. The deficient New Orleans Hornets, third worst in the West, deleted Denver's distinguished 15-game winning streak, thanks to an unheard-of rookie from a small school who had an unheard-of night. Due to injury, the host Hornets took a flier on former Dayton Flyer Brian Roberts, a 27-year-old first-year player. It served them well, as he served the ball to teammates in a 24-point teardown of a team that was on a terrific tear. Like a lot of teams this time of year, the Nuggets won't know how sweet sixteen would've been.

Making just his second start as a pro, Roberts provided 18 assists - a figure four more than the Nuggets team total - plus, pitched in 13 points on 50% shooting in 41 minutes of action. "It's crazy to fathom," Roberts confessed about his assists, especially since he never tallied even ten during his collegiate career. Maybe there's more than one league that experiences March Madness. Many unexpected things come to pass on the court this month; last night, Brian Roberts was one of them (literally). By the way, Miami and their 27 straight victories head to New Orleans on Friday. Despite the Heat holding two more triumphs consecutively than the Hornets have overall, that encounter isn't looking like a (big) easy win anymore.

*We "explored" including LaSalle somehow.

In the (School) Zone

Adrian Dantley was an old school player for 15 seasons in The Association. Now, he's an elementary and middle school crossing guard in Maryland. The former forward/guard keeps kids moving forward and guards them from motorists. As a career 24.3 ppg scorer, Dantley knew how to navigate through traffic. Today, he helps children do so safely. "I think it’s more dangerous out here than me playing one-on-one or me taking a hard foul from an NBA player," Dantley said. We're not sure that's Acura-te.

Dantley told CNN he took the public service position, which is only one hour of work a week, because he was bored and for the benefits, claiming he paid $17,000 last year for health insurance*. In a way, Dantley, who was an assistant coach in the league with Denver until 2010, is like an NBA referee - he lets everyone walk.

*This could prompt Karl Malone to consider becoming an actual mailman.

The Cleveland Show

The clock was ticking down and his team was down big, 27 points in the third quarter. LeBron James had to channel his inner Jack Bauer and rescue his crew on Wednesday night in order to extend the Heat's consecutive victories streak to 24*. Like Bauer, James methodically more than maliciously tied up his foe and beat them. Make no mistake, it was torturous for Cleveland, already in agony over the absence of the affirmed-out or assumed-out for the season Anderson Varejao, Kyrie Irving and Dion Waters. Thus, the protagonist in Miami remained the antagonist in Cleveland. They thought he had already taken everything. They were wrong. As of 2010, their hometown hero didn't belong to them. As of 2013, their own team's double-digit lead didn't belong to them. Suddenly, it dawned on them (with the exception of Dan Gilbert) that they didn't own LeBron, he owned them.

The start of the game was delayed 35 minutes due to faulty scoreboard. At the conclusion of the contest, the Cavaliers must've thought it was still malfunctioning because in less than nine minutes of game time, LeBron erased Cleveland's lead like he was working on a chalk board. Not even a fan rushing the court - an ignoramus interruptus - could cease James' concentration in the fourth quater, as he compiled 14 points, 7 rebounds, 3 assists and 2 steals to tally a triple-double of 25-12-10.

"This was one of the most bizarre, unique days of my life," James reflected. Funny, the crowd in Cleveland feels the same. In fact, this is the second one they've been through. With apologies to Robert Frost, LeBron has championship promises to keep, while the Cavs have C.J. Miles, who missed a three to tie at the end, to go before they sleep.

*Admit it, you hear the "beep, beep, beeeeeeep" sound effect in your head.

They (Nug)Get Results

On the eve of the first day of spring, Andre Miller showed he still has some Colorado spring(s) in his step. Miller marked his 37th birthday and the new season by scoring a season-high 20 points in a mere 23 minutes, including 13 in the fourth, to extend the newsworthy Nuggets winning streak to 13 games. Andre Miller navigated the court like Bode Miller does a slope, grabbing 7 rebounds and also handing out 9 assists while handing Oklahoma City, owners of the third-best record in the Association, just its fifth home loss, but third overall to the Nuggets. The game was a piece of cake for Miller.

Denver, perhaps due to snow blindness or sand bias (the second term we totally made up), has been buried beneath the avalanche of attention allocated to Miami, where warm weather and warm feelings are widespread. Certainly, the Heat are on a renowned run, however no team may run better than the nimble Nuggets, who dash and dunk like they're the less celebrated cousin of the Clippers, which is why we're designating Denver "(ski)Lift City."

Like Picasso, the Nuggets are naturals in the paint, leading the league in the highest percentage of points derived from down low, outscoring opponents on the inside in an outstanding 50 consecutive games. That's why the thin air team is in the thick of things in the Western Conference, winning without a preeminent player*, defeating foes using Kosta Koufos. Lacking a big shot, the only question is: Who will take the big shot when the outcome is on the line? Denver is missing the alpha male it had during its Carmelo Anthony days, but the team may be better off with a bunch of betas maximizing their talent. Even in the age of Blu-Ray, we could envision this "Betamax" strategy succeeding in the NBA.

*although JaVale McGee is the singular star of Shaqtin' a Fool, assembling a blooper reel longer than his wingspan.

How to Monta Comeback

On Sunday, Monta Ellis performed as if he was playing an old-school arcade machine because he inserted a quarter in the fourth quarter. Ellis earned the game's high score, racking up 39 points and went on a Rampage (or went Berzerk, if you want a more obscure reference), during the last level, finishing with 19 in the remaining 6:32. Facing a Time Crisis, since his team was trailing by 13 entering the final 12 minutes, Ellis dug the Bucks out of a hole like he was Mr. Do!.

Neither he nor the Bucks were clowning around, posting 45 points over the course of the fourth, to leap-frog(ger) Orlando. Perhaps the Pac-Man cherry on top for Ellis was hitting a quintet of threes in the clutch. Ellis was so exceptional, nary a Defender could contain him*. That's how you 1-up the competition^.

*The Magic could only curse their misfortune, a la Q*bert.

^Tapper, slide that man a root beer, he deserves a drink.

Heat's New Flame

Erik Spoelstra had a hot date to a recent charity event, who happens to be a former dancer for the team he coaches. Although the fresh-faced Filipino-American Spoelstra is among the youngest at his position in the league, the damsel draped on his arm is the inverse of his age. Nikki Sapp isn't a sapling, but there are about as many rings on her tree trunk as Spoelstra has on his fingers. However, there's no reason to dance around the subject, since Sapp stopped shimmying before Spoelstra took over in 2008.

Sapp's website lists her current occupation as "Art Gallerista Extraordinaire," which might explain why the secretive Spoelstra was drawn to her, although details remain sketchy. We don't know if Spoelstra cares about the work of Basquiat as much as he does the work of Battier*, but we can't brush off that sweetheart Sapp might be Spoelstra's source of inspiration in supervising Heat's superb 20-game winning streak. Miami's needs to string together four more victories to equal Sapp's age. We'd Bank(sy) on the Heat that exceeding that number.

*do champs have time for Duchamp?

Dahntay's Inferno

Kobe Bryant would probably place Dahntay Jones in Dante Alighieri's ninth circle of Hell: Treachery. Bryant, who suffered a severe left ankle sprain falling on Jones' foot while taking a potential game-tying jumper Wednesday night, stopped short of accusing Jones of intentionally injuring him, but did declare the play "dangerous" and took a trip down unpleasant memory lane, comparing it to a play 13 years ago in which Jalen Rose undercut him during the finals. Rose fessed up to the foul on an ESPN podcast a few months back, but that hasn't led to a rosy relationship between the two.

Jones took to Twitter - where Bryant revealed his recovery regimen, which included a triple-feature of movie-viewing - to defend his character in 140 or fewer character, typing "Tape doesn't lie." True, but tape doesn't tell the truth, either. Reviewing the replay, results are inconclusive. Kobe kicked his leg out to initiate contact, but while he was in the air, Jones also advanced into Bryant's space, giving him nowhere to land. Therefore, we're not going to damn the defender to burn for eternity* - although Jones certainly wouldn't be the first Duke Blue Devil to encounter the devil.

Perhaps the new pope can settle this. Or the previous pope, we assume he still has a way to get ahold of God (the Almighty has his own social network site, I Created Your Facebook), the ultimate witness and "Supreme Server" (he stores everything in the cloud). Right now, Bryant, who is listed as out indefinitely, is stuck in the underworld's first circle: Limbo.

*or even force him to watch a commercial for Calvin Klein's Eternity.

Work (Dis)Like Magic

For one night, Dwight Howard was a master illusionist, with a beguiling boxscore Burt Wonderstone couldn't conjure^. Howard saved some of his magic for his old team during his first return to Orlando, scoring a season-high 39 points in a win. Historically, Howard can't hack it at the line, so the Magic opted to hack him^, employing a tactic most foul, but he exclaimed "presto change-o" to his free throw woes: sinking 25 of his league record-tying 39 tries and shooting 64% from the stripe, an increase of 15% above his average this year. After the first half Howard had, notching 19 and 10, over-matched Orlando should've switched to the saw him in half strategy.

Howard pulled a rabbit out of his hat, but this wasn't some humdrum hare, it was Bugs Bunny in Space Jam. Motivated, maybe by the masterpiece of a movie mentioned, he played as if the planet's safety was at stake. Like the cartoon character, Howard was animated, chatting with the cross crowd, who blame him for staging the longest vanishing act in all of sports.

Now, for Howard's next trick: solidifying the Lakers, winners of four straight and eight of ten, spot in the playoffs. To pull it off, he'll need to concede that he's actually Kobe Bryant's lovely assistant, the Teller to Kobe's Penn. For Howard to believed their roles are reversed would be magical thinking.

^which is a film we expect to disappear from theatres in no time.
*it's fitting that these largely unknown Magic players became hackers, since they amount to an Anonymous collective.