The agony is almost unbearable.
How did my 2010 playoffs go? Not well. What was once an unlimited resource has now been depleted. I can remember a few short years ago when I would have to decide where to watch a playoff game based upon a number of factors. I was faced with these decisions because I not only had guys inquiring as to where I would be watching the game, but also a stable of athletically minded young gentlemen who were eager to find out my decision because they would pledge their allegiance to the majority decision of the group. Alas, my comrades have departed one by one to various life sentences. Some are chained to their wives, some are chained to their children and a small percentage are chained to professional commitments. Meanwhile, I have the luxury of watching the NBA playoffs in the comfort of my own home on my high definition television equipped with not only a digital video recording device fed high definition signals via satellite, but also a surround sound system so in tune that I can hear vuvuzelas even when I'm watching basketball. With no child raising, career or academic obligations, I'm free – until school starts on Monday, of course. I don't know why I complain, really.
Due to time constraints, I've decided to keep this short.
Ray Allen – congratulations on costing yourself millions of dollars in free agency. After setting the record for most 3s in a playoff game, you proceeded to sleep walk through the rest of the finals. Ok, well, maybe not on defense, but on offense, you were severely lacking. Thank you for showing the world what a real Kobe stopper looks like (yeah, that was aimed at you, Ruben Patterson) and hopefully you sign with Atlanta for the veteran minimum.
Kobe Bryant – you call that a legacy game? You were terrible in the biggest game of the year, and quite possibly, the biggest game of your career thus far. You were supposed to make a statement with this victory. You barely shot 20% from the field, had less than 10 assists and were it not for some crucial free throws at the end of the game, you were atrocious.
Derek Fisher – you are the dagger in my side. The devil himself jabbed you into my side back in 2004. As I lay immobilized from having 2 hernias removed from my innards, the one thing I had to look forward to was the NBA Playoffs. You sold your soul in the moments before the inbounds pass. When you launched a prayer with .04 seconds left on the clock that would end game 6 with a Laker victory, I felt the poison tipped dagger inserted into my side in the soft spot between 2 of my ribs. I felt my heart stop as the pain sent my body into shock. That dagger has remained lodged in my side ever since, and today, you twisted the dagger to reopen the wound that had still not yet fully healed. When you made the 3 that tied the game with roughly 7 minutes to go, I knew what was happening. Your bargain with the devil was again paying it's yearly dividends. I knew the game was taking a turn off course and headed straight for the cliffs and into a 300ft canyon filled with jagged, impaling rocks. Why couldn't you just stay in the locker room for the remainder of the game? The day you retire from the league is the day the newly twisted dagger is removed from my side. The wound will take years to heal as it's now infected with your evil diseases.
Pau Gasol – I hate you and your Spanish facial hair/expressions.
I feel so defeated. I'm $20 poorer than I was yesterday. I'm +$42 at the end of the day, but my soul took a beating.
