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.
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