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.