AS we dispense with our final irregular slander of yet another irregular season, we begin with big ups to Thomas Jefferson. Our third president and author of the Declaration of Independence turned 266 yesterday — and remains in better playing shape than Eddy Curry.
Say this much for Camp Cablevision — at least they don’t play favorites. After Kobe Bryant and LeBron James used their visits to the Sexual Harassment Hacienda to stuff their stats for an MVP run, Dwyane Wade waited for the Knicks to come to him before adjourning his case.
Wade’s Sunday night double-nickel was his career high, and just one point shy of Glen Rice’s Heat team record.
I’ve seen better defense at an Easter egg hunt.
“I could have scored more,” Wade said, “but the former Mrs. Rice scares the hell out of me.”
You’d think that during the course of Wade’s 30-shots-in-39-minutes performance, he’d have been deposited on his derriere just once?
And, by the way, what was with that nauseating, waning-moments fraternization between Wade and Mike D’Antoni?
“It’s kind of ridiculous that you’re this good,” was the wire service’s take on D’Antoni’s genuflect.
“I usually have to prowl street corners for that type of service,” Charles Barkley said.
You have to hand it to the Senor Schedule Maker. Although the Sweet 16 has been officially decided for a while, he kept the final three nights of the 82-game-a-thon interesting.
Beginning last night, there were enough games in both conferences with ranking/home-court/avoidance issues to coax me (not) to endure NBA TV and its mandatory mauling of the mother tongue.
Do look now; we owe the Eastern Bloc an apology. It’s possible that none of its postseason entries will get in with a below-the-equator benchmark.
Do not get duped by the Cavaliers’ Easter beat-down of the Celtics at the Hock Shop; this wasn’t the playoffs. A 31-9 edge after the first quarter, coupled with the inane, cutesy ramblings of Jeff Van Gundy for the final three, had to do wonders for ABC’s ratings.
The good news is, the 107-76 landslide surely raised the spirits of Bobby “Bingo” Smith to where his No. 7 is retired alongside Nate Thurmond (42), Austin Carr (34), Larry Nance (22), Brad Daugherty (43) and Mark Price (25).
The 1970 expansion franchise original is battling a liver ailment. Contrary to what I wrote a couple of weeks ago, it was Carr and Smith and their crew that eliminated Washington (’75-76) that became hailed as the Miracle of Richfield. It was Bingo’s team-high 17 points and game-winning shot that thrust the Cavs, trailing the series, 1-0, to their first-ever playoff victory.
Boston wrapped up Cleveland’s fantasy in six conference final games — proving you can’t get too giddy until the embalming fluid ignites. Especially when it involves a vacant end-of-season demolition of the defending champs.
I mean, aside from Ray Allen’s suspension-warranting elbow to the groin of Anderson Varejao, who wouldn’t even give the floored guard the satisfaction of slightly bending over in pain.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but I suspect the Celtics might not be quite as competent minus Kevin Garnett, Leon Powe and, lest we forget, James Posey.
Guess what I’m trying to say is, dancing in the aisles or, in this case, on the bench, was immature and premature of LeBron James.
Who would’ve thought the Cavs would be on a collision course with the Celtics’ history-making ’86 club? One more victory (the 76ers visit tomorrow night) matches the Vitamin C’s 40-1 home record — though they played three of those games at Hartford.
“Not on my watch!” Greg Kite proclaimed.
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Here’s what column castigator Frank Drucker hopes for: When the fans go to the concession stand to buy a $7 hot dog or $10 beer at the Mets’ new Citi Field, they’re greeted with a sign reading, “Next Window Please.”
Consider this a friendly reminder: Your taxes are due tomorrow, so either pay up, or put in for a cabinet position.