Remember, like a month ago when Lebron “No, I Ain’t Shaking Your Damn Hand” James carried a team of misfits on his back all the way to the Eastern Conference Finals?  Well, the load to carry just got a little heavier.  Make that 400 pounds heavier (ahem, when he’s dieting).

Welcome: Shaquille O’Neal to the Cleveland Cavaliers.  Is it the Big Aristotle or the old, should have retired four years ago Aristotle?  One can never be sure.

Yes, Cleveland may not be getting the player he once was, but let’s not forget Shaq is still… Read More

Death, taxes, and rioting after sports championships.  Apparently, these are the only certainties in life.  Players go to Disney World.  Fans go crazy.  In yet another example of the “Yes, my team won!  Now, let’s smash a car!” logic, hundreds of fans caused mayhem on the streets of Los Angeles Sunday night after the Lakers won their 15th NBA title.  Signs were torn down, vehicles were damaged, and various objects were hurled at police officers. Some lit fires, others broke into local stores.  According to the L.A. Police Department, at least 25 people were arrested during the riots.  Read More

A gentleman in his early 20s stands outside the Bank of America at the intersection of Vine Street and Sunset Boulevard at 8:45 PM. He is wearing a Post-That-Denver-Thing Kobe Bryant Jersey (#8 is the dynasty number, #24 is the ‘maybe if I change my number, people will forget that I went two-hole on a rocky mountain groupie), Kevin Smith-esque jorts, and is holding a Lakers banner that is less flag than it is Battle Standard. He’s screaming in celebration, waving the standard to and fro, having a Little Death each time a passing car honks his horn. Of course, the jubilation is the same if the honking is for the Lakers winning the NBA title or if the guy in front of him drives like Mr. Magoo if he was from New Jersey. This kid has a big smile on his face and is nothing if not passionate.

He’s also an idiot.

Let’s just start doing the math: it’s very unlikely he has to get up in the morning to go to work, unless he’s got the morning shift at Popeyes (sidenote: there is no place more depraved than the Popeyes at Hollywood and Cahuenga before ten AM. If you were awakened from a time capsule [a la Brendan Frasier in Blast from the Past] you would be certain that the Soviets had won the Cold War). It’s equally unlikely that he has a girlfriend, because instead of deciding to spend an hour and a half celebrating the Lakers win by Kobe-ing her (the safe word is ‘Shaq’s-A-Bitch’), he’s waving a flag next to a couple ATMs and a dirt-encrusted bum who’s repeatedly screaming, “My popsicles are the best popsicles!” at the billboard with Johnny Depp on it. It’s 9:31PM. He’s still out there.

So this begs the question: what is he getting out of this? Read More

It’s that time of year again: the NBA Finals with the Lakers, who have officially become the Ken Jennings of basketball. Because the Lakers refuse to lose, I, a Los Angeles resident and Laker non-thusiast, am stuck in the fiery hell that is Laker Nation.

Everywhere you go in LA there is decorative Laker paraphernalia that adorn hundreds if not thousands of cars. My biggest pet peeve is the Laker car flag, but only when it’s taken to the extreme. I can understand having one flag on your car on game days. That’s ok because the occasion calls for it. Two flags, ehh, you’re kind of pushing it, but I guess the argument would be the need for symmetry, so touché. But anything over two, you’re not just crossing the line, rather you have successfully won the Gold Medal in the Long Jump competition at the Douchebag Olympics. I get that you’re trying to show you’re Laker pride. I bet you even say you bleed purple and poop gold. Good for you, but you might want to see a doctor about that. And take off a flag or two while you’re on your way. Which leads me to my next problem, the aftermath.

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In a related story, Stan Van Gundy will be starring in the upcoming porn flick “Romancing the Sperm.”

Some things are black and white. You can’t be slightly pregnant, a little bit arrested, or mostly dead (unless diagnosed by Miracle Max). The problem with leaving no room for grey area means there is only winning and losing. And the NBA lost.

No sport on Earth has hitched their wagon more to the individual star-power of the players. The NFL is all about the coaches and GMs, baseball about tradition, soccer about riot police. The NBA is built on their names. Think about how the game has been marketed in the last 30 years. You had Bird vs Magic, Shaq vs Kobe, Jordan vs Everyone, Ron Artest vs the entire city of Detroit. And this season was the Year of Kobe vs LeBron.

And they missed. Read More