Raptors Vs. Sixers, 7:30pm

When there’s only one thing a verbose windbag like me (what’re you laughin’ at?) wants to say, you best know he thinks it’s important: We can’t let Kyle Korver or Willie Green beat us. It’s that simple. Please Toronto, close out on their 3-point shooters. With two tough games coming up against Chicago and Utah…

When there’s only one thing a verbose windbag like me (what’re you laughin’ at?) wants to say, you best know he thinks it’s important:

We can’t let Kyle Korver or Willie Green beat us. It’s that simple.

Please Toronto, close out on their 3-point shooters. With two tough games coming up against Chicago and Utah (with surprising Indiana to follow), it’s imperative we ‘take care of business’ at home tonight. In case you’ve forgotten, ‘business’ is chasing down loose balls, stellar ball movement, and draining perimeter shots (not to be confused with ‘bidniss’, which is WAY cooler).

Even though Reggie Evans is in for another lucrative evening on the boards (who says one-dimensional players can’t be useful…are you listening, #24?), perimeter defense remains Priority #1 (or Priority Numero Uno for all my sexy Spanish readers…ola).

Stud of the Game: Andrea Bargnani. The move to the bench should return Bargnani to his comfortable and preferred role of Top Chucker, though I think Dixon relished owning the crown for a few games. The Big Benchie’s matchup against rookie Jason Smith is exploitable, though Smith sent his pizza dough flying (which is what the cool kids call a ‘block’) in the season opener.

Dud of the Game: Jason Kapono. I think I’m going to just leave him to fester in the bowels of Dud of the Game until he gets his touch back. Of course, in order to get his touch back, he MIGHT need to average more than 3 attempts from behind the arc per game (which is the only place he should be shooting from). Just something to consider, Mr. Big Free Agent Shooter.

In case I’m being too cryptic…shoot the rock J-Kap…ono.

Final Score: Raptors 105, Andre Igoudala 20.


Remember how you used to do that? Huh?

Your wife didn’t marry you for your hops. Flick that wrist, surfer boy.