Saturday, May 17, 2008

Siete. Septyni. Siedem. Sjö. Seven.

How many articles written within the last 30 hours about tomorrow's Game 7 do you think start with the line, "well, this is it." I've got to ballpark its in the 60 percentile range. With that said, it is hard to deny that "this is" in fact "it." Another Game 7 for the city of Cleveland. The last 3 haven't gone so well and for the sake of winning let's hope both Jose Mesa and Joel Skinner have been barred from the arena (although it is fun to imagine them hanging out together, as friends. "Hey Joel, what you wanna do tonight, the Cavs said we can't show up, wanna just see Iron Man instead?")

I am hopeful for the game, kind of. LeBron James still plays for Cleveland and he has yet to explode and control a game in this series-- maybe Nike paid him to hold off and wait for a dramatic Game 7. I just hope he's able to take Boston out tomorrow, I really don't want to lose another sports series to those buttholes again.

On a side note, I think if I were Doc Rivers I would have my players rolling their bodies around in flowers, grass and any other pollinated plants before the game tomorrow. This would totally take out the interior defense and rebounding of Ben Wallace. I mean, did you see him, he is so allergy pron he had to stand alone in a hallway during the smoke and fire introductions. Pollinated basketball players would drop him like a fly.