The Diary: Eddie’s Latest One-Liners

My name is Stan Van Gundy and I’m Ron Jeremy’s stunt double. I learned how to play Rashard Lewis with Pietrus and Hedo, and it helped me win a big game for once. I’m no Jeff.

My name is LeBron James and I shouldn’t take nine days off ever again. I also finally got to play a half-decent team in the Playoffs, and they were able to expose our offense, which consists of three plays.

My name is JJ Reddick. Sometimes I have bad shooting nights because I don’t go out to practice my three; instead before a big game I sit in the locker room next to Hedo — who’s eating pizza — and work on my hairdo with a bottle of gel and a comb.

My name is Kobe Bryant, and I miss being 25, where no matter who you were, I would have taken your ass to the rim for a dunk or two guaranteed free throws.

My name is George Karl and I simply can’t get it done. Nor can I get a suit that fits perfectly and doesn’t make me look like Koko the Clown. In Game 7 in Los Angeles, when the Lakers are up by 1 and we have the ball with 6 seconds left on the clock in the fourth quarter, I’ll once again have Anthony Carter — the shortest player on my team — take the ball out of bounds where he’s met by Lamar Odom — a near 7-footer who played street ball in New York. I will have him pass to Chauncey, a guy who walks so slow to get the pass, telegraphing it to the entire court, that we’re bound to give them a steal and a win in a game we probably should have won.

My name is Kenyon Martin and I just fouled Kobe Bryant 30 feet from the basket in the biggest game of the last 20 years in our franchise’s history by reaching in for some reason while three people were defending him.

My name is Carmelo Anthony and I need to be traded to a team where my potential will grow into a championship, and not a team where my teammate feuds with Mark Cuban, uses double negatives in every sentence, and where the number of tats on our team combined is greater than the number of dumb decisions our coach has made this season. Either way, I’m set on showing everyone I’m that damn good and MJ knew something when he gave me that Nike deal.

My name is J.R. Smith and I really don’t give a damn if we beat the Lakers or not. Why should I care if my club’s owner doesn’t believe in us and would rather watch RAW?

My name is Blake Griffin and David Stern’s ping pong balls screwed me for life.

Can’t you just picture a depressed-looking Baron Davis bouncing off Marcus Camby and Zach Randolph during timeouts as Eric Gordon and Blake Griffin cry aloud? The NBA – Where Mike Dunleavy Happens.

NBA Playoffs Chess

It seems that every year the NBA does a tremendous job with its advertising campaign before the Playoffs and Finals. This year has been no different. The “Where Amazing Happens” campaign continued with slow-mo dramatic-music moments of older Playoffs footage that really manage to capture the spirit of the post-season. Think Kobe’s buzzer-beater against the Suns a few years ago, or Duncan’s shocking three-pointer (again against the poor Suns) last year. They show these moments in black and white, add the dramatic music, and play them in slow-mo, and all you can think about by the end of the ad is “when is the next game on.”

However, the newest piece of advertisement that comes out of the NBA is the best I’ve seen in 2009. It’s over two minutes long and compares basketball to chess. As a concept that sounds a bit out there, but when you watch the video, you get the point. Another key part is that it also features the first tease of Kobe vs. LeBron for the Finals, pinning the two guys on opposing sides of the chess board. Enjoy!

The College Basketball Debate

I’ve been really busy lately, so I’ve had to rely on entertaining the millions and millions of readers of my blog (HA!) with some entertaining YouTube video, but don’t think for one second that I post any YouTube video. I try to still make them entertaining and worth your while, so hopefully you’ve enjoyed them.

Anyway, by being so busy these past two weeks, and having to attend a conference on Saturday, I was a bit sad that I’m going to be missing NCAA action, especially my Bruins playing Villanova. This has been a tough year for us. With Westbrook, Love, and Mbah a Moute leaving for the NBA, the team had a weird chemistry of people to work with. On one hand you had the (shaky) leadership of Darren Collison and Josh Shipp in their last year at UCLA, mixed with secondary guys from last year’s squad getting a chance, and some new faces with Holiday making a quick impact. It’s a work in progress, and this obviously wasn’t our year.

I thought we’d have trouble getting past VCU in Round 1, but we managed. After all, UCLA is UCLA when it comes to college basketball, and the guys weren’t going to choke that badly. The media jumped on the possibility and a poor Pac-10 Tournament performance added to the hype. We beat VCU (barely, yes), and then it was on to Villanova. I had us losing by 10, calling it a tournament, and creating a new squad next year with 2009’s core in place. Never mind that we got crushed by a superior team (Villanova was tremendous!) in a game we never lead in. You see, this is college basketball. You always hope for next year…

This is where the college basketball debate enters the picture. If you think about it, how silly is it to support a college basketball team nowadays, other than your school’s squad? With the NBA rules set in stone, players are coming in and leaving on the fly. You see by the bargaining agreement signed in 2005, you have to be 19 years of age to enter the NBA, and you must be 1 year removed from high school. I’m not sure why. What’s the point of this rule? If you’re destined to be a mega-star out of high school, what does this one year of college do for you? Would Kobe Bryant, LeBron James, or Kevin Garrnett gotten any better if they went to college for one year? They’re three of the top six players in the league today in my opinion, with James and Bryant the top two. You should either let high school stars get into the NBA right away if they’re that good (and on the rare occasions it happens, it’s definitely the way to go as history has shown for the most part). If they’re not and you’re sending them to college, you might as well force them to graduate or at least reach the age of 21 before they move onto the NBA.

A college graduate entering the NBA makes sense to me. Not only do guys mature more when they enter the league, but they also get four years of college ball. Four years of learning the game, and becoming better at it. Face it, if they’re that good, then they’ll come in from high school! Just a thought…