5 minutes…….300 seconds…….This is the time frame each NBA team is granted to make up their minds. Although the Bulls were jet-set on their pick weeks ago, I couldn’t help but squirm a little during those tumltuous ticks of the clock. These are the Bulls we are talking about here. Since Pax is capable of screwing up a wet dream, my apprehensions persisted until David Stern waddled up to the podium to receive his obligatory shower of boos from the New York faithful, and reveal Chicago’s new kid on the block…….Derrick Rose.
Now I know what it feels like to give birth. The emotions range from utter excitement and euphoria, to desperately needed relief. Way to go Bulls, you finally did the right thing. In a decade where nothing has seemed to fall into place, Rose provides instant hope, and that’s something none of his predescesors could provide. The PBR flowed like wine for the next 59 picks, which went south very quickly. This draft will be forever pockmarked by shitty trades, and even shittier picks.
Seattle taking Russell Westbrook was the first legitimate stretch of the evening, and it came early at #4 . He was slated to go between picks 6 to 10, and this curveball started the ridiculous frenzy of teams trying to outdo one another by digging way too deep, and dealing whoever for whatever.
I have a feeling the Blazers brass are degenerate gamblers at heart. They were involved in roughly 99.999% of the trades last night, which reached 137 before I reached drunkeness and kind of quit caring. They ARE those kids who would trade away valuable rookie cards just because they liked making deals. I was ready to hear, “The Blazers have traded Greg Oden, Brandon Roy, and the Rose Garden Arena to Boston for Eddie House, a pack of 1991 Fleer Ultra Baseball, and a slew of draft picks they have every intention of using, then trading away.” You know you have ruined a draft when the commissioner at the podium states, “We have a trade…” and the raucous NYC crowd indifferently mutters “Woo freaking hoo….”
In all honesty, Portland made some decent deals, and looks much better on paper than last season. One team I can’t really say the same about is Indiana. I spent a half hour last night discussing with a comrade Larry Legend’s possible meth/crack addiction. I mean how else could someone make such horrendous decisions? Giving away Jermaine O’Neal for a bucket of rusty nuts and bolts isn’t pretty, but the coup de grace was trading Jerryd Bayless, who is the steal of the draft in my opinion. Are Bird and Jordan secretly competing to see who can make a franchise go bust the fastest? Jordan Vs Bird II: We Make Isiah Look Good should be out for the PS3 by Christmas.
All in all, the draft lacked star power, but provided the usual entertainment only the NBA could give us. Things like fugly seersucker suits, hysterically crying mothers, Knick fans booing the living shit out of a horrified Italian, and brain dead analysts engaging in pissing matches on live television seem to be exclusive to basketball….
Stu: “And he looks like the singer Usher! You love Usher don’t you Bilas?”
Bilas: (rolling eyes) “Yes Stu. My I-Pod is filled with him. Actually after the draft, I’m going to go listen to him.”
Gotta love this game……
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