tackabery chronicle

Some Steve guy

I can't quite get my head around Steve Lavin. He looks like a hockey coach, seems to aspire to dress like Pat Riley, and is the king of bad cliches on that king of bad cliche network, the network that is now making up the sports news, ESPN. Sports guys down here are creaming themselves over his girlfriend, who looks, well, plastic. I'm convinced she's actually a Barbie doll. If this is going to be our guy, apparently most of the yahoos on the boards are going to up their season tickets to get a closer look. Which might be statutory rape. What is she, sixteen? The power of the airbrush never fails to astound me.

Yet . . . if he brings that record here and does it again, and again, and again, and manages to tick off Roy and K enough to make us a contender again, I will worship his hair-gelled scalp. But nah . . . it's so not going to happen. We're going to end up with the Herb look-alike. Let's be honest. We're going to get the guy who has an equipment manager named Bubba, so we will keep Werner and Horner. We're Wolfpack fans. It's our fate to be mostly disappointed. What would life actually be like inside the RBC Center if we weren't all yelling "Rebound!" during every offensive possession while the ball falls onto the lonely court, not one guy in white anywhere near the basket because they are all hanging out on the perimeter?

I can't remember . . . it's been such a . . . long, long time. I liked the Princeton/NC State/one heartbeat/communist party offense, when we were actually running it. I love those heart-stopping threes - nothing better than that moment when your stomach comes straight up to your throat and you are praying to Allah for that ball to fall in the hole! - but when it went cold this year, those iron bricks felt like nails. Bam, bam, bam.

Maybe I'm just in my usual basketball withdrawal mode that always happens at this time of year, right when the NBA playoffs start and the only basketball is being played by a bunch of overpaid pansies trying to muster some manufactured passion with a lot of loud beats and fireworks because they don't play, um, defense. It's only interesting when the Spurs play somebody and Manu is doing his flying Jedi maneuvers and Duncan is being Duncan, or Lebron is on the court; until I can see Jules or AG on tv, I couldn't give a darn what happens in that league. Sigh. Where's our Coach, Lee? Give us a break.

Technorati tags: nc state wolfpack, steve lavin, john beilein, nba basketball

posted by mktackabery @ 21:36