Shooting Bricks

Oboy, it appears that the NBA has stepped into a big pile of shit, and it's not gonna be easy for Daniel Stern to wipe this mess off his thousand dollar shoes. Mitch Lawrence from the New York Daily News tells us more: Quite simply, this is the NBA's worst nightmare. For commissioner David Stern, 30 NBA owners, some 400 players and 60 refs, it can't get any worse than having a referee caught smack in the middle of a mob-inspired, point-shaving scandal. The integrity of the NBA is open to question because referee Tim Donaghy allegedly bet on games he officiated and made calls over the last two seasons that affected the point spread of games. The rumbling you heard yesterday was the foundation of a pro sports league shaken like it has never been in 60 years. "There's nothing worse for the integrity and credibility of the game," said one ownership source. "This is horrible." That's because when you buy a ticket for an NBA game, as for other pro sporting events, you are putting your hard-earned money and trust in the fact that the action is on the up and up. It's not supposed to be pro wrestling. Steve Bornstein, the ex-head of ESPN who's now running the NFL network, was asked why he thought sports was so popular, and he answered, "You can't go to Blockbuster and rent tonight's game." Unlike novels, movies, or the theater, sporting events are unique because it's real and you don't know what's going to happen next. The World Series isn't a fake HBO movie written by a doofus from Hollywood. Those athletes doing those impossible things in front of you aren't holograms manufactured by Industrial Light and Magic. Kirk Gibson really did hit that game-winning home run. The Catch, The Drive, and The Fumble really did happen. Michael Jordan really did win six NBA championships. But now a creep with a whistle has fucked that up. It doesn't matter that referee Tim Donaghy has resigned, because that poisonous seed of doubt has been planted in people's minds, and nobody knows how deep the roots go down. Daniel Stern and the NBA have a bigger problem than dull games or Allan Iverson's tattoos, and it's not going to go away anytime soon.

Lunch

Spurs lead the Cavs, 3-0. Ho-hum. Who cares? I know David Stern ain't loving this series. Adding insult to injury, ABC is broadcasting the games too damn late, so the sponsors of this Wax Museum in Sneakers should be No-Doz and Starbucks. In spite of King James and The Big Fundamental strutting their mojo, my adrenaline is simmering at a low boil. O.K., maybe the Cavaliers (a.k.a. LeBron and his Not Ready For Prime Time Players) can steal one game, but it's only postponing the inevitable. LeBron James is learning what Michael Jordan learned years ago: I can't do it by myself. At least Michael had Scottie Pippin. Lebron doesn't even have Paul Pierce. Meanwhile, on the other end of the hardwood, the Spurs look at the Cavs and think, "Lunch!" Still, because anything is possible in sports, maybe, just maybe, there's a million-to-one chance... Nyaaah. Are you kidding me? Will the iceberg beat the Titanic? Will Godzilla beat Tokyo? Spurs in four.