Just like we thought, a blowout win. An “answer” to Friday’s game that frankly should have counted as two losses. If it’s okay with you, I’m gonna keep my brow furrowed until we know the outcome of tomorrow’s game in Indiana. They’re a team playing without two of their “stars” (and I use this in the loosest of terms) and struggling mightily, but it’s the road end of a back to back and not as much of a gimme as it should be, apparently until we get this ‘mental toughness’ Bosh, Mitchell, and Doug Smith all say will only come with time. We better hope so. Because right now, we STILL can’t guard Jamal Crawford.
What’s that? Enough sourpussing? Time to get on with it?
Okay, rah rah, the Raptors beat the Pricks. I don’t have time to write much ’cause I’m rushing out to the tickertape parade.
28 games left, and we gotta win 17 of them to match last years win total. Gotta string some together.
TJ wasn’t wearing his big white foam finger, which turned out to be just as cumbersome as it looked. He began the game with this black spidey-wrap thing on but tore it off between the first two quarters. Most of his points were in garbage time but he definitely got that swagger back and hit the patented “bump off the guard fadeaway in the key” jumper. Hope it means TJ turned that corner – and after only a few games, that’s not half bad. 15, 5, and 4 in only 19 minutes is extremely productive, and he showed he hates Nate Robinson as much as I do.
But you know who I love….Primoz! Say it with me, all together: “PRIMOZ!” Yes, it’s premature, but man he’s got energy. All the fist pumps, raised-arm celebrations…if he was a puppy*, he’d be damn near adorable. My favorite Primoz moment was his no-look pass, which he made even though a) there was no defender on him – he was chasing down a rebound, and b) he was actually facing the crowd, not the court. Tell me, who gives a no-look TO THE FANS? Primoz, that’s who.
*Actually, assuming he sticks around a while, that could be an excellent namechoice for the dog I don’t yet have! Primoz the puppy! Excuse me while I pat myself on the back. I’m going to drop it on the list (yes, there is one, please don’t laugh) right under my all-time frontrunner “Millhouse”.
From the moment jersey #1 (hilarious choice, by the way) stepped onto the court, you could tell he was pumped to be here. Then he steps out and goes 5 for freakin’ 5 with 11 points, 3 boards, and a block in 11 minutes. That THAT, all those who doubted him! Okay, it’s just one game, but if he keeps playing like that, Humph is going to be doing a LOT of sitting. Primoz has quickly shot up the “Raptor I’d most like to randomly run into at a bar” list.
Before I forget, Chuck and Leo’s “Dead Horse Of The Night”: Brezec’s “outgoing personality.” What I want to know is – are they struggling to find things to fill the broadcast, or are they just lazy?
By the way, watching Jose pick up Bargnani off the deck by the head, like he was his first-born, led me to ask another very important question: Why do pro ballers HAVE to smack each other’s asses? Like on every play. When did that become part of the routine, something you have to remember to do once you hear the whistle? I really want the answer to this. Maybe Bill Simmons will know. Or Skeets. I’ll try ‘em both.
That’s all I got. Keep your eyes peeled in Indiana tonight as it might be your only chance this season to see a total Whitewash out there – all ten players and referees caucasian. Tittilatzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.(DiNote: Officially, this is the dumbest thing I heard all weekend. And I went to Devil’s Martini on Saturday night, so that’s saying something.)