6/23/2005
I Can't Wait To See What Darvin Ham Does In Tonight's Game
Admittedly, I am a basketball fan. I played a little in High School (and by play a little, I mean "I was only allowed to play when my team was up by forty points and the school that we were facing has a live goat at the end of their bench, however their mascot is not actually a goat") and I watch college basketball almost religiously. At one point in time I watched my fair share of the NBA, but that time has past. I would like to get back into watching the NBA, but I think that growing up in Illinois in the 80's-90's has left me rather jaded towards the professional circuit. Perhaps that is the one detriment to the Association that MJ left. When you watch The Greatest Player Who Ever Lived + Co. run off championships during your youth, Elden Campbell's heroics just don't seem to measure up.
That is why tonight, instead of watching the first Game Seven of the NBA Finals in eleven years, I'm going to the Cardinals-Pirates game. I just don't care about the Spurs and the Pistons. And, with all apologies to anyone from San An or the D, I don't know why anyone else would either. In fact, if Fox threw a new episode of The OC on tonight, I guarantee that the NBA Finals ratings would be cut in half.
How did it come to be that I, the average American (and by average, I'm assuming that the majority of Americans drink five nights a week, secretly wish they could fly, and are amazing in bed) has become so disenfranchised with the NBA that they'd rather watch a mid-season baseball game than the Game 7 of the NBA Finals? I don't know. And truth be told, I don't necessarily care, either.
What could be done to draw myself and the millions like me back into the fold? First and foremost, a new marketing strategy should be put in place, maybe something akin to turning old clips of when Larry "Grand-mama" Johnson and Steve Urkel hooked up to win a Chicago area streetball tourney (in perhaps the greatest episode of Family Matters ever) into a series of commercials ("I love this game!")
Once that is in place, trades should be made to create a group of teams made up entirely of all-stars, a group of teams made up of fundamentaly sound foreign players, a group of teams made up of head-cases, and a group of teams made up of ridiculously uncoordinated white guys (Mark Madsen, I'm looking at you.) Then let those leagues fight it out in a giant round-robin, double elimination Pinewood Derby style tourney. I think the winning team might just surprise you.
And then the Bulls should sign me as an unrestricted free agent, give me millions of dollars, and rig the 3 point contest at the All-Star game so that I win it.
Then I'll care.
That is why tonight, instead of watching the first Game Seven of the NBA Finals in eleven years, I'm going to the Cardinals-Pirates game. I just don't care about the Spurs and the Pistons. And, with all apologies to anyone from San An or the D, I don't know why anyone else would either. In fact, if Fox threw a new episode of The OC on tonight, I guarantee that the NBA Finals ratings would be cut in half.
How did it come to be that I, the average American (and by average, I'm assuming that the majority of Americans drink five nights a week, secretly wish they could fly, and are amazing in bed) has become so disenfranchised with the NBA that they'd rather watch a mid-season baseball game than the Game 7 of the NBA Finals? I don't know. And truth be told, I don't necessarily care, either.
What could be done to draw myself and the millions like me back into the fold? First and foremost, a new marketing strategy should be put in place, maybe something akin to turning old clips of when Larry "Grand-mama" Johnson and Steve Urkel hooked up to win a Chicago area streetball tourney (in perhaps the greatest episode of Family Matters ever) into a series of commercials ("I love this game!")
Once that is in place, trades should be made to create a group of teams made up entirely of all-stars, a group of teams made up of fundamentaly sound foreign players, a group of teams made up of head-cases, and a group of teams made up of ridiculously uncoordinated white guys (Mark Madsen, I'm looking at you.) Then let those leagues fight it out in a giant round-robin, double elimination Pinewood Derby style tourney. I think the winning team might just surprise you.
And then the Bulls should sign me as an unrestricted free agent, give me millions of dollars, and rig the 3 point contest at the All-Star game so that I win it.
Then I'll care.
