Tell me James Dolan and Donnie Walsh aren't a couple of Knuckleheaded Knicks.
What on earth were they thinking? I didn't know whether to laugh, cry or scream upon learning the news that these two senior NBA executives re-signed former NY Knicks President and Coach Isaiah Thomas as a special consultant to their organization.
Dolan's and Walsh's decision to rehire Thomas is deplorably, ridiculously, irresponsibly disgusting. Their knuckledheaded move sends the WRONG message.....that anyone can get rehired by your former employee even after you:
1. fail miserably at your job as a coach with a woeful 23-59 record in 2007-08
2. cost your former bosses $11.6 million to settle a lawsuit you caused
3. sexually harass a woman who worked for you
and worse yet...
4. throw your very own daughter under the proverbial bus when the police respond to your home to investigate your purported drug overdose / suicide.
I'm very curious to see whether self-righteous NBA Commissioner David Stern, so protective of the league's declining image, weighs in on this abhorent NY Knicks news.
In a professional basketball league where "Amazing Happens" there should never be any room for the reprehensible decisions of Knuckleheaded Knicks.
Straight talk. No static.
MIKE - thee American Made Voice on Sports!
www.facebook.com/theemikefans
Showing posts with label NBA Finals. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NBA Finals. Show all posts
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Thursday, August 5, 2010
SHAQ-tastrophe!
The Celtics are courting SHAQ-tastrophe!
Last season's NBA Finals Runner Ups are flaunting with failure as the Celtics have signed 38-year-old former NBA All-Star Shaquille O'Neal to a two year contract.
In this coming NBA season, look for a series of SHAQ-tastrophes beginning with a kelly green clad sputtering Big Diesel lumbering down the parquet court of Boston's TD Bank and North Garden.
Already limited in its fast break, an aged Celtics team has added the glacier quick Shaq to its squad. . . certain to tether itself further to the immovable foundation of Boston's iconic John Hancock Building.
At first, watch the plodding Planet Cryptonite schmooze teammates with his signature shuck and jive and influence his new Boston friends with a feigned team-first philosophy. However, O'Neal's game has always been Shaq vs. . . well . . . everybody else . . . 'cause it's always been all about 7' 1" and 335+ pounds of Shaq and his monumental ego.
Then, just wait till December, when Shaq Daddy wants more touches and disheartened guards like Rajon Rondo and Nate Robinson howl at the horrific sight of this Big Fella hampering their way to the hoop.
Worse yet, wait until February, when the original Celtic Big 3 of Ray Allen, Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett have had enough hubris from this new Hulking Ham in the Hub City hoping to become a cozy Celtic Quartet. But that won't ever happen.
Expect O'Neal to exit Boston after just one season or maybe even sooner. History documents his less than magical departure from Orlando, his petty parting from the Lakers, Shaq's scorched separations from the Suns and Heat and his recent cavalier departure from Cleveland.
Despite my prognostications, here's hoping the Celtics will salvage this season by muzzling this megalomaniac and sparingly utilizing his waning talents.
Otherwise, Coach Doc Rivers will be courting a sure SHAQ-tastrophe with the NBA's former Superman and now sputtering Big Diesel.
Straight Talk. No Static.
MIKE - Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
Last season's NBA Finals Runner Ups are flaunting with failure as the Celtics have signed 38-year-old former NBA All-Star Shaquille O'Neal to a two year contract.
In this coming NBA season, look for a series of SHAQ-tastrophes beginning with a kelly green clad sputtering Big Diesel lumbering down the parquet court of Boston's TD Bank and North Garden.
Already limited in its fast break, an aged Celtics team has added the glacier quick Shaq to its squad. . . certain to tether itself further to the immovable foundation of Boston's iconic John Hancock Building.
At first, watch the plodding Planet Cryptonite schmooze teammates with his signature shuck and jive and influence his new Boston friends with a feigned team-first philosophy. However, O'Neal's game has always been Shaq vs. . . well . . . everybody else . . . 'cause it's always been all about 7' 1" and 335+ pounds of Shaq and his monumental ego.
Then, just wait till December, when Shaq Daddy wants more touches and disheartened guards like Rajon Rondo and Nate Robinson howl at the horrific sight of this Big Fella hampering their way to the hoop.
Worse yet, wait until February, when the original Celtic Big 3 of Ray Allen, Paul Pierce and Kevin Garnett have had enough hubris from this new Hulking Ham in the Hub City hoping to become a cozy Celtic Quartet. But that won't ever happen.
Expect O'Neal to exit Boston after just one season or maybe even sooner. History documents his less than magical departure from Orlando, his petty parting from the Lakers, Shaq's scorched separations from the Suns and Heat and his recent cavalier departure from Cleveland.
Despite my prognostications, here's hoping the Celtics will salvage this season by muzzling this megalomaniac and sparingly utilizing his waning talents.
Otherwise, Coach Doc Rivers will be courting a sure SHAQ-tastrophe with the NBA's former Superman and now sputtering Big Diesel.
Straight Talk. No Static.
MIKE - Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
Friday, July 9, 2010
Lebron James' Decision Part 1 - Me, Myself & I
Me, Myself and I were the only people that Lebron James ever cared about.
Us, We and Team never factored into Lebron's decision to forsake his faithful fans and teammates in Cleveland and bolt to the broiling beaches of Miami.
Forget about family. Forget about friendship. Forget about fostering hope for a struggling region in our country. Fortune and fame were the only fundamental factors forcing the career choice of the selfish would-be king without a ring.
Last night in a tightly scripted declaration, the now former Cleveland Cavalier star finally decreed his royally self-serving plans to a national television audience. Lebron's decision was all about him, himself and he! Never were any plural pronouns even considered in James' edict.
The Press, most unnervingly ESPN, pandered pathetically to the hysteria hovering around Prima-don Lebron's free agency announcement. Court jestering replaced ESPN's normally respected journalistic coverage. Lebron's hand-picked interviewer Jim Gray lobbied softballs at the reigning NBA MVP - smartly arrayed in a purple and white checked shirt . . . and thankfully not in purple robes, sceptre and crown.
Worse yet, sports fans tolerated the pomp and circumstance surrounding James' surreal free agency circus. Bracing for pain, we all tuned in to ESPN last night to witness the inevitable . . . all the time secretly hoping LBJ would never spurn the Rust Belt for the sun, surf and sand of South Florida.
Even the Cavalier franchise and the surrounding Cleveland community succumbed to carefully courting the king, cautious not to upset him while praying and pining that their hometown hero would eschew the bigger city spotlights for the rain-soaked shores of Lake Erie.
Other NBA owners frolicked in Lebronamania, knowing the word Billion was Lebron's primary motivation and foolishly thinking 23 would move his monarchy to their metro markets.
Now jilted and scorned, we all had hoped the hometown hero would hunker down in Cleveland and bring the city by the lake that long sought after championship in pro sports for which it has thirsted for the past 50 years.
Okay sports fans, after all this ranting over Lebron's leaving it's now time for us to move on - let's forgive 23 for forsaking us and wish the man the best in his quest for a ring in Miami.
Sure, Lebron should have stayed - but he didn't. Sure, Lebron could have consulted with us - but he hadn't. Sure, Lebron would have been forever loved in Ohio - but he won't.
However, when you're calling South Beach home, and the guaranteed millions are already in the bank, it's easy to understand why . . . Me, Myself and I are the only three people on the planet that Lebron James ever cared about.
Straight Talk, No Static.
MIKE . . . Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
Us, We and Team never factored into Lebron's decision to forsake his faithful fans and teammates in Cleveland and bolt to the broiling beaches of Miami.
Forget about family. Forget about friendship. Forget about fostering hope for a struggling region in our country. Fortune and fame were the only fundamental factors forcing the career choice of the selfish would-be king without a ring.
Last night in a tightly scripted declaration, the now former Cleveland Cavalier star finally decreed his royally self-serving plans to a national television audience. Lebron's decision was all about him, himself and he! Never were any plural pronouns even considered in James' edict.
The Press, most unnervingly ESPN, pandered pathetically to the hysteria hovering around Prima-don Lebron's free agency announcement. Court jestering replaced ESPN's normally respected journalistic coverage. Lebron's hand-picked interviewer Jim Gray lobbied softballs at the reigning NBA MVP - smartly arrayed in a purple and white checked shirt . . . and thankfully not in purple robes, sceptre and crown.
Worse yet, sports fans tolerated the pomp and circumstance surrounding James' surreal free agency circus. Bracing for pain, we all tuned in to ESPN last night to witness the inevitable . . . all the time secretly hoping LBJ would never spurn the Rust Belt for the sun, surf and sand of South Florida.
Even the Cavalier franchise and the surrounding Cleveland community succumbed to carefully courting the king, cautious not to upset him while praying and pining that their hometown hero would eschew the bigger city spotlights for the rain-soaked shores of Lake Erie.
Other NBA owners frolicked in Lebronamania, knowing the word Billion was Lebron's primary motivation and foolishly thinking 23 would move his monarchy to their metro markets.
Now jilted and scorned, we all had hoped the hometown hero would hunker down in Cleveland and bring the city by the lake that long sought after championship in pro sports for which it has thirsted for the past 50 years.
Okay sports fans, after all this ranting over Lebron's leaving it's now time for us to move on - let's forgive 23 for forsaking us and wish the man the best in his quest for a ring in Miami.
Sure, Lebron should have stayed - but he didn't. Sure, Lebron could have consulted with us - but he hadn't. Sure, Lebron would have been forever loved in Ohio - but he won't.
However, when you're calling South Beach home, and the guaranteed millions are already in the bank, it's easy to understand why . . . Me, Myself and I are the only three people on the planet that Lebron James ever cared about.
Straight Talk, No Static.
MIKE . . . Thee American Made Voice on Sports!
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Enough of Kobe's Beefs!
OK, I've had enough of Kobe's "beefs!"
No, I'm NOT referring to Japan's Kobe Beef... as in the finest steak in the world.
However, I am lamenting Los Angeles Laker Kobe Bryant's non-stop bickering beefs; i.e. the murmuring, complaining, whining, sulking and moaning we witness every time this loquacious Laker steps on the hardwood.
Right now, Boston Celtic fans are probably scrambling to canonize me as the new patron saint of Beantown for my audacious, long overdue proclamation, while loyal Left Coast Laker fans are boiling mad with plans to excoriate me somewhere on ritzy Rodeo Drive for all of SoCal to see.
Hey, I'm the first to admit that Kobe Bryant is arguably the best player on the planet. Sorry, Lebron-lovers. But, hear me loud and clear Laker faithful, Kobe's pissy attitude, once again, during the recent Laker - Suns Western Conference Finals was totally inexcusable.
Coach Phil Jackson should bury a baby's binkie in Bryant's mouth instead of tippy-toeing around the Lakers' $30 Million per year Prima Donna. What a disgrace that Jackson goes along with his star guard's glaring, glowering and grimacing every time he misses a shot - or sanctions the sulking sewage that flows offensively out of his mouth toward the refs just as effortlessly as BP's blundering oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.
Why don't we hear Marv Albert or Kenny The Jet Smith or Charles Barkley or Jeff Van Gundy step up with some stones and speak out against the belly-aching Bryant? Sadly, we see plenty of other sniffling television sportscasters like Stuart Scott and Doug Collins molly-coddle Kobe's contentious conduct and carelessly condone his condescending comments aimed directly at his very own Laker teammates.
Basketball fans, here's hoping the diminutive NBA Czar David Stern, always eager to pontificate before a camera, bottles up the bickering, babbling Bryant before the Boston - Los Angeles series begins tonight.
Enough of Kobe's "beefs," so we can all enjoy a great NBA Finals!
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
No, I'm NOT referring to Japan's Kobe Beef... as in the finest steak in the world.
However, I am lamenting Los Angeles Laker Kobe Bryant's non-stop bickering beefs; i.e. the murmuring, complaining, whining, sulking and moaning we witness every time this loquacious Laker steps on the hardwood.
Right now, Boston Celtic fans are probably scrambling to canonize me as the new patron saint of Beantown for my audacious, long overdue proclamation, while loyal Left Coast Laker fans are boiling mad with plans to excoriate me somewhere on ritzy Rodeo Drive for all of SoCal to see.
Hey, I'm the first to admit that Kobe Bryant is arguably the best player on the planet. Sorry, Lebron-lovers. But, hear me loud and clear Laker faithful, Kobe's pissy attitude, once again, during the recent Laker - Suns Western Conference Finals was totally inexcusable.
Coach Phil Jackson should bury a baby's binkie in Bryant's mouth instead of tippy-toeing around the Lakers' $30 Million per year Prima Donna. What a disgrace that Jackson goes along with his star guard's glaring, glowering and grimacing every time he misses a shot - or sanctions the sulking sewage that flows offensively out of his mouth toward the refs just as effortlessly as BP's blundering oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.
Why don't we hear Marv Albert or Kenny The Jet Smith or Charles Barkley or Jeff Van Gundy step up with some stones and speak out against the belly-aching Bryant? Sadly, we see plenty of other sniffling television sportscasters like Stuart Scott and Doug Collins molly-coddle Kobe's contentious conduct and carelessly condone his condescending comments aimed directly at his very own Laker teammates.
Basketball fans, here's hoping the diminutive NBA Czar David Stern, always eager to pontificate before a camera, bottles up the bickering, babbling Bryant before the Boston - Los Angeles series begins tonight.
Enough of Kobe's "beefs," so we can all enjoy a great NBA Finals!
MIKE - thee American made voice on sports!
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