Still totally cacked off the weekend’s excitement? Yeah, us too. Sighhhhh. Sunday night was the biggest letdown in a while – Sopranos sucked, no Entourage (whatever, it’s entertaining), and we didn’t even really get to watch LeBron play. Hop on as we play Captain Buzzkill and rewind.
Care To Get Nice?
Your Coach is a Boobie Head - 
If Mike Brown wasn’t LeBron’s whipping boy and The Sopranos finale hadn’t blown baby seals, we’d have smeared him, but he’s just not smug enough. Why? Because you have to know what the fuck you’re doing to be smug. Sitting LeBron with two fouls for most of the first quarter as the Spurs established dominance when he’s the only player within 200 miles of Cleveland who can create his own shot? Um, not so good. Don’t think anyone should ask Danny Ferry how that Ilgauskus contract extension is working out for him, but at least Daniel Gibson saw some minutes as Tony Parker continued his coming out party. Let’s go ahead and get this out of the way now too–for however many days the NBA [incorrectly] scheduled time off between games 2 and 3, you will read column after column after column across the web about how LeBron is not that great and how the Cavaliers are donecakes. Then. LeBron will have an enormous game 3 as the Cavs win BIG. People will write about what a story this comeback will be, LeBron is getting ready to establish his greatness…blah-blah-blah, and the Spurs will close out in five. Lesson: Don’t ever doubt the Fancypants.
You Are One Pathetic Loser – 
Roger Federer continues to get p-wned by Rafeal Nadal at Roland Garros, proving that he is at least the second best at something involving little yellow balls. Seriously, Rog, if you can’t pull of just ONE win at the French, it’s going to be tough to call you the best ever. Like, really tough. It is kind of humorous at this point though, to see someone so great, so completely dominant at what they do to the point where it’s almost boring, and then once a year they just can’t beat this one guy in a sniveling country on a surface that has no business being used. That would be our stance if we were Federer. Just boycott clay. And French people.
Guess We Weren’t the Only Ones Slinging Beans This Weekend – 
Holy Moses that Braves-Cubs series was easily the most exciting sporting event we watched all weekend. After a week in which we saw Sweet, Sweet Lou get suspended for going apesmell on an ump and Michael Barrett and Carlos Zambrano do their Kevin Garnett impression, who coulda thunk it got spicier? (Well, it did.) Friday Alfonso Soriano cranked three taters and Saturday Tim Hudson responded by plunking him with the first pitch; this turned into Len Karver and Bob Brenly spending the next four hours talking about revenge and what not. Sunday, Ted Lilly waited a little bit longer (two outs) to fire one inside and tight on Edgar Renteria, prompting an ejection and more words from Lou. Which is always fun. Braves backdoored one last night to avoid the sweep.
Sweet Pink Saddle – 
Immature bastards (and us) everywhere laughed heartily as a female horse with the word “Rag” in her name entered the Belmont Stakes. Consequently, not only did our trifecta get shot to shit but we now look stupid for not laying cash on Curlin’ to place and show too. To sum up: Gambling and women go together like lamb and tunafish. Seriously, girl, don’t try and change us. We usually win.
