Losing the Anti-Hype Battle Again to Lebron

As I've said before, I'm not one for hype. That's why I never thought I'd be pulling for someone like Lebron James. He had enough going for him that I didn't need to put any of my energy behind him. But I officially became a Lebron fan a few years back when he almost single-handedly carried the Cavs into the NBA Finals, and what he's done since hasn't changed my mind. (And I'm not just talking about the State Farm commercial in which Lebron does the Kid N' Play dance.)

Watching the end of Game 2 Friday night was one of the many occasions when my wife's understanding of my sports fandom proved to be lacking. She wondered why I cared so much to be watching the game when I had no allegiance to either team. Let's just say it's a good thing I didn't lose the argument. With Hedo Turkoglu poised to be the Rashard Lewis of Game 2 by scoring five points in the last minute, I was stunned that the Magic found themselves a tick away from a 2-0 lead heading home.

We all know what happened next. I jumped off the freaking couch when Lebron's rainbow three rattled in and, as usual, I couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to have been in that arena. Unreal.

But I'm a bit troubled by the last two days worth of comparisons between Friday night's shot and Michael Jordan's classic game-winner 20 years ago over Craig Ehlo. The thing is, Jordan's wasn't just a game-winner; it was a series-winner. If it didn't go in, the Bulls were going home -- not for the next game, but for the entire offseason. Sure, if Lebron's shot didn't go in then you could almost seal the Cavs' fate, having dropped the first two games of the series on their home floor. But they would have still been alive to fight on.

I don't care that Jordan's was a first-round series ... and that it was only basically a free-throw line jumper ... or that there were three seconds on the clock when he got the ball rather than just one. His shot sent his opponents packing.

Now if the Cavs rally to win this series and go on to the NBA title, then you can say that the shot probably saved the season. And that's when you can say it wasn't just "the shot," it was "The Shot." Either way, Lebron still has some work to do.

Rockin' with the HCP

Considering that I've really only hung out with my California cousins a handful of times in my life, it's improbable to think that I've crossed paths with them twice in a matter of two months. But that has been the case, with the most recent meeting taking place last night.


My traveling cousins are traveling with their band, The Henry Clay People. The HCP bang out my kind of music, which I suppose can only be described genre-wise as alternative rock. (I don't really like that label, but I guess it works.)

So The Henry Clay People were passing through Kansas City last night on their way to Scottsdale, Arizona, to complete the final leg of their tour. They're meeting back up with up-and-coming L.A. based band The Airborne Toxic Event, after finishing up some recent dates with alt-rock veteran Ben Harper and his band the Relentless 7.

Needless to say, good company for my cousins and their bandmates as they try to make names for themselves around the country.

So far, the following for the HCP has been fairly contained to Southern California, but some national exposure is bound to help. The band will be playing next week at the Sasquatch Music Festival in Washington, and in August they'll be part of Lollapalooza in Chicago.

Not bad for four young men who started out playing modest clubs in suburban Los Angeles. Do us all a favor and check them out.

http://www.myspace.com/thehenryclaypeople

I Like to Think I Can Be Pretty Nice Sometimes

I've often said that I have no problem being a dick to the people I don't like, but I also like to go out of my way to be nice to the people I actually care about.

That being said, I felt I had a pretty productive weekend as a "good person." It's not very often I contribute to charity. The lone exception in my recent past has been helping fund Missouri public schools -- but that's only because it's state law for Missouri riverboat casinos to direct a share of its profits to support state education.

On Saturday evening I attended a fundraiser hosted by a friend. Its intent was to raise money for pediatric cancer research in the name of my friend's niece, who tragically passed away in 2004 after living just nine months. My family's appearance at the barbecue was relatively brief, probably just an hour or an hour and a half. My contribution to the cause was surely not the largest either, but I felt it was important for us to be there in support.

This relatively modest gathering ended up raising close to $2000. A great day for a great cause. And for someone as selfish as I sometimes try to be, I feel pretty good about that.

A Few Random Thoughts After Being Pissed on by Wii Fit

No disrespect to that software geniuses who invented the Nintendo Wii or Wii Fit, in particular; however, my Wii Fit experience is off to a very inauspicious start.

The box was just cracked open today, one day after my wife received Wii Fit as a Mothers' Day gift from my mom. Today's task was simply to get started, setting up profiles for my wife and myself. Now I'm not at all the one who's vigilant about getting started on this. Within the last year, I've dropped almost 20 pounds to get down to my desired Super Welterweight/Middleweight frame in the low 150s. Standing a mere 5'6", I tend to think I do okay for myself. Apparently, Wii Fit doesn't agree.

After simply standing on this board for a few seconds and performing a couple of balancing tests, I was told my fitness level was ideal for a 36-year-old. The fucking audacity. No offense to those of age 36, but that's four years older than I am. I'll be damned to stand around and have someone - even a damn machine - tell me I'm not in good shape for according to my years.

I do some strength and resistance training several days a week, and I probably jog a total of 10-15 miles peer week. Is that good for nothing?

Pricks.

The glory in being wrong. So I was only 30 points off in my prediction yesterday of Game 4 of the NBA Western Conference semifinals. Rather than the 18-point Lakers' victory that I projected, it was the Rockets who cruised to a 12-point win (and it wasn't nearly that close). But I have no problem being so far off on this one. First of all, who didn't think the Lakers would win? Secondly, who really wouldn't want this series to stretch as long as possible. I find it ridiculous to think that Houston can win another game in L.A., but I can keep my fingers crossed that Artest will be ready to pop one of the Lakers into the first row at some point in the next few days.

Confession: I actually want the Lakers to win. Those who know me well can tell you that two of my least favorite things in life are hype and populism. (Guess who I didn't vote for in the Presidential Election last November?) That's why it's highly improbable to think that I'd actually be pulling for the much-desired Lakers-Cavs matchup in the NBA Finals. I'm sorry, though, I just think it's something I need to see. The Lakers are the best team in the West, the Cavs are the best in the East; Kobe's the best player in the West, LeBron is the best player in the East. Let's get this done. It's good for the league, good for basketball in general, good for TV, and it's good enough for me. Just this once, I'm buying the hype and I'm voting with the masses.

My wife is right about this kid shit. My wife runs a daycare out of our home, at its peak with as many as eight children under our small roof. This is personally significant to me in many ways, but perhaps none moreso than on days like today, when I stay home from work. My wonderful 16-month-old son, Lukas, rolled over this morning with a temperature of 103. Rather than closing the daycare, inconveniencing the other parents and forcing my wife to burn one of her contracted sick days, I volunteered to stay home and quarantine myself with the sick child. That decision was made over 12 hours ago, and I'm officially ready to get out of the fucking house. My only fresh air salvation today has been a 10-minute walk with my dog, and I'm just about ready for a 10-hour trip to my favorite watering hole.

She's right, this stuff isn't easy. Much respect.

Must-See TV: Sunday, 2:30pm on ABC

There's not often much to love about the NBA, but each spring the playoffs seem to provide the kind of moments you long for: meaningful buzzer-beaters, true MVP-like performances and some wonderful flagrant fouls.

With Ron Artest riding a two-game ejection streak and the Rockets on the ropes, there's no way I'm going to miss today's Game 4 of the Western Conference semifinals against the Lakers. It's really a shame that Yao Ming won't be around, but even if L.A. takes early control this afternoon, there will be good reason to keep watching. Especially considering that Derek Fisher will be making his first appearance since leveling Luis Scola, there could be a full throwdown. At least that's what I'll be watching for.

Hell, with any more injuries or ejections, former Big Ten Player of the Year Brian Cook may actually see some minutes for the Rockets too. The one-time Laker had some pretty good games back when he donned the ugly purple and yellow threads. Cook played the role now owned by Trevor Ariza, ironically the player for whom Cook was traded to Orlando. Ariza is a little thinner and more athletic, and I'm guessing he doesn't have the attitude problem that BC has been known to flash every once in a while.

My old U of I boy has only played six minutes this series, but what better time to drop some bombs on your old team? Honestly, though, it's more likely he'll only appear today in junk time.

Prediction: Lakers 94, Rockets 76.

Please Define the Term "Regional Coverage"

Fox Sports, in general, sucks. Consider that Joe Buck is basically its #1 everything; consider Thom Brennaman has somehow become worthy of calling College Football's biggest game the past couple of years; consider that the Fox NFL Sunday, a pregame show for the country's most popular sport, is nothing more than theater for a handful of loud-mouthed jackasses who are seemingly as concerned with Jillian Reynolds and Frank Calliendo as they are with professional football ... It just sucks. And Fox Saturday Baseball does nothing to help either.

This weekend, the Great Midwest - at least my suburban KC area - was treated to a Rays-Red Sox matinee as our Saturday "regional coverage." Tell me, please, how regional is that? Sure, the AL Central rarely seems to provide the most compelling of matchups, but this assumption that everyone cares about the AL East is getting a bit out of control. I've come to terms with the fact that every Yankees-Red Sox game must be nationally televised; (I think that's been written into Major League Baseball's contract with its television partners.) but we're going a bit too far to think that any Yankees or Red Sox game should be the default game of preference under all circumstances.

Oh, there are plenty of bandwagoners around the country who love this. No doubt about it. The Yankees and Red Sox are almost certainly the two franchises in the MLB with the most national appeal, although the Cubs might fit in the pretty closely as well. But what helped created that popularity, of course, is the exposure that these two clubs have always gotten. That's what built the attraction in the first place for so many fans.

I'm sure it serves as a great reminder to Kansas City Royals' fans that, despite getting off to a first-place start this season, there's a long way to go before achieving national or perhaps even "regional" acclaim.

Fox, thanks for continuing to contribute to the problem again.