Bynum's Rehab Is Going Just Fine

I once broke my pinkie toe when I was younger. It was really quite broken (in two places) and I had to endure the shame of being on crutches because the doctor wouldn't let me put any weight on it. I remember spending most of my time sitting and laying down because it killed to dangle my leg and have the blood rush to my hurt widdle toesey.

Why am I bringing this up?

Well, I was that much of a pansy and I DIDN'T tear my MCL, which is what Andrew Bynum did. I rehabbed by keeping away from physical activity as much as possible and watching reruns of Ducktales. Andrew has a different take on the rehab process:



Call me crazy, but that MCL looks just fine when he is shakin' those hips. This makes me pissed that I didn't demand playboy bunnies as part of my pinkie toe rehab, and was instead stuck with a movie marathon of all three Back To The Future movies and Ecto Cooler...Aw, who am I kidding? That still sounds pretty damn cool. Ecto Cooler is the shit.

Poodini Ain't So Special

Every year there is a rookie that has everyone gushing, and this year it is Derrick Rose (what, no Kosta Koufos for you, ladies?). The Great Poodini has been lighting it up and helping the Bulls come out of the bowels of hell into a relatively strong 8th seed late bid. Still, for all of the gushers (let's keep this clean), I show you this proof that Rose still has a ways to go before he is considered "clutch":


Yucky. Were that the playoffs, even fellow Chicago-an Bartman would have winced. That layup for the win couldn't have been more gift-wrapped. If you slow-mo the shot, you can see the moment when the collective Raptors team takes a collective dump in their pants, realizing they've lost the game...only to have them escape with the win. Dumps in the pants can be silly like that.

Inside The NBA Discusses Twittering

I know I will date myself here, but I have no clue what the hell twittering is and don't really care to know. I barely have enough time to pee these days, let alone write for THF and romance the ladies, so learning a new thing is just out of the question. It's also impossible to sound manly when you say "twitter". It's like a guy punching a guy's head off, revving a motorcycle, blasting some heavy metal...and then saying he is going to drink a Snapple...it's that one component that just makes it not manly.

The folks on Inside the NBA discussed twittering the other day, and this was of particular interest to me because Barkely is even more of a caveman than I am:


I have no idea how Charles Barkely doesn't have his own show at this point. I think I would pay to watch him read the TV Guide, he is so entertaining. In fact, I'm mildly pissed that the TV Guide channel hasn't contacted him to pitch such a program.

Stephen Hawking Hates The Celtics

So apparently there is some group out there called BeatBoston09, and their entire existence is devoted to hating the Boston Celtics. While I am impartial on who wins the championship this year, I am always hoping someone new gets a chance, which I guess would add me to the list of people hoping the Celts slip up this year. It's nothing personal, just business, Big Baby Davis.

Still, I did have to laugh at the anger these anti-Celtics fans have. Here is a message from them, which sounds like it is from Stephen Hawking, to the Boston fans around the globe. Enjoy.

The NBA Needs Arenas To Return With Guns Blazing

If you've thought this has been a rather boring NBA season, chances are you are a fan of oft-injured crazyman Gilbert Arenas. The guy finds a way to get the fans interested in the game that takes place OFF the court like no one else. Well, bored man, you may soon be in luck!

Gilbert Arenas, in typical Gilbert Arenas fashion, sent a text message that said "I'm playing Saturday against Detroit" to Comcast Sportsnet. Not since OJ Mayo's faxed letter to USC, declaring he was theirs, has the basketball landscape been as excited about something sent over the phone lines (This does not include Kevin Love calling his personal chef to say, "Add yet more fat to my diet").

Personally, I am completely psyched for Agent Zero to return. The league is better off when the sports highlights involve posturing and hairbrained sound bytes. With Shaq making nice-nice with Kobe, Stephon Marbury (the basketball equivalent of T.O.) momentarily happy, and Ron Artest being in between psychotic rampages, there has been a conspicuous lack of water cooler talk this season. The NBA usually hits a downswing in popularity around March, because of the NCAA Tournament, but this season seems to have been more quiet than any season in recent memory. It's enough to almost HOPE Chris Anderson falls off the wagon and winds up doing lines of coke off of the Denver Nuggets cheerleaders.

Thus, as we wait with baited breath for Gilbert to return, we'll keep our eye on the news wire for anything humorous and out of the ordinary. If nothing pops up soon, I'll petition for an NBA team in Las Vegas to drum up some fun stories (helloooooo stripper scandals!)

If You Smelllllll What Coach K Is Cooking

Coach K, the coach of the men's Olympic basketball team, gave a verbal bitch slap to President Obama today:

"Somebody said that we're not in President Obama's Final Four, and as much as I respect what he's doing, really, the economy is something that he should focus on, probably more than the brackets."

Damn!  There's having balls and then there's taking on the most popular president in recent memory and taking him to task.  This whole thing smacks of Coach K (or "K" as I like to call him) being annoyed that Duke wasn't put further in Obama's bracket.  Despite that selfishness, the manliness of the comment still impresses me.  You KNOW that the media is going to blow this story way out of proportion (if it hasn't by the time I'm done typing this) and eventually K will say he is sorry and didn't mean anything, but for now it's a great read.  Chuck Norris, you've got some competition.

We Need More 8-Bit Music, Dag Nabbit!

If you wasted as much time as I did playing Sega Genesis as a kid, you most likely had a chance encounter or two with a game by the name of "NBA Jam". By "game" I mean "hardcore addiction that would consume your life". I'm not ashamed to admit before this game came out, I was a smug jackass that oohed over the realism of "Lakers Vs. Celtics In The NBA Playoffs". Afterward, I was pissed that other games were so realistic. I wanted flames to shoot out of players' asses as they shot toward the hoop with a chorus of "He's on FIRE!". Anything less was uncivilized.

This little trip down memory lane was caused by one of my friends sending me this audio clip to jam to while I worked. Sure enough, I soon found myself bobbing my head and my thumbs twitching involuntarily to an imaginary Genesis controller. Enjoy.

Happy St. Paddy's Day!

Since I had my fill of drinking over the weekend, I am actually taking this St Patrick's day easy and relaxing (cue the studio audience going "BOOOO!"). It's Tuesday, so my body will thank me later.

That doesn't mean that we shouldn't have fun. I just bought a new computer, and short of dipping it green and writing some douche-y Celtics-themed post, the only way I can think of to celebrate in a timely fashion is.....

WATCHING ALL OF THE TRAILERS FROM THE 'LEPRECHAUN' SERIES OF HORROR MOVIES! Enjoy.

Tiger's Vote(s) For MVP

Tiger Woods is so good at golf that it was only a matter of time before his superpowers were used towards other sports...in this case forecasting the future of the NBA MVP race. I like this line of thinking, and whomever asked him this question is as close to me if I were a sideline reporter as you can get. I'm always the guy watching and yelling at the guy interviewing Michael Jordan, "Yeah, he thinks the Bulls will do well this year...BUT WHAT DOES HE THINK ABOUT THE TONYA HARDING SCANDAL?! ASK HIM!!!!"

Asking Tiger's opinion on the NBA isn't as out of left field as it seems. Tiger seems to be at every single Orlando Magic home game, and currently holds a solid 8000 to 2 advantage over JJ Redick in regards to times the cameras are on him. The best part of the video (in my opinion) is that Tiger seems incredibly solemn when answering, bordering on seeming sad. It's like he just narrowly lost the biggest tournament of his life. Since Tiger never loses, the closest thing to "loss" he knows is that Dwayne Wade won't win MVP:



It's okay, Tiger. Somehow with the bajillions you possess and the hot model wife, I'm sure you'll get over Dwayne coming in 3rd in the voting.

Someone On The Grizzlies Is A Bad Boy

A report has come out that someone on the Memphis Grizzlies sexually assaulted someone this year in Philadelphia. This second sentence is the area where I usually elaborate further on the previous "hook" sentence...but oddly enough that's all the news there is on this one so far.

Yep, like some sort of bizarre murder mystery-themed dinner, all we know is that someone on the Grizz has nimble fingers. Hopefully this news comes out soon, so we don't have to conduct a witch hunt to figure out who.

One person we know it is NOT is Grizzlies guard Marko Jaric, who is married to model Adriana Lima...Goodness gracious how do you cheat on this?

Exactly. Sleep easy, Marko. We know it isn't you.

Joe Johnson Is Boring

As is alluded to in THF friend-site Free Darko's book "The Macrophenomenal Basketball Almanac", Joe Johnson is one of the most lukewarm guys in a league of exciting personalities. I've noticed that whenever anyone is talking about him on sports highlights, it is usually in some stat-related capacity. For example, "Lebron with the THUNDER-JAM! Then, Mo Williams with the NO-LOOK-SHIMMY-SHIMMY-YAW SHIMMY SHIMMY YAY!...Joe Johnson also netted 38 points as the Hawks went on to beat the Cavs..."

If you missed Joe Johnson's yawn-worthy exploits in the NBA All Star Weekend's first ever H-O-R-S-E (where they spelled G-E-I-C-O?!) game, let this video be a trip inside the drabness that is JJ. Here he is, attempting to show up Lebron and Dwight Howard's crazy pregame shots with one of his own:



Oh sorry, I nodded off for a second. Did something happen? Oh, Joe Johnson shot from a chair, something I actually did to win a game of h-o-r-s-e when I was in third grade? Fantastic. I'm going back to bed. Wake me when Lebron does that underwater.

Hey, What's POPPIN?!

Ron Artest is always good for an interview. The moment I saw he was wearing his jersey backwards so the audience could see his name, I knew this would be fun. He has the ability to be incredibly lucid, as he is during the bulk of this interview, but you can see the mischievous 5-year-old self in his eyes whenever anyone else speaks.



My favorite part is Chris Webber simply trying to get through reading the teleprompter without stumbling on his words, while Ron yells "WHO IS THIS?" Remind me to invite Ron-Ron to a party or two (but warn the partygoers NOT to spill any cups of soda on him).

Kobe Can Teach You Languages!

Kobe Bryant is a man of the world. We've previously shown him speaking Italian, and if this is any indication, this will be one hell of a Chinese New Year:



I don't know what the heck Kobe said, but it most likely translated into "Shaq, how's my ass taste?"

Slow News Day Cheerleader Of The...Oh Lord.

When a Stan Van Gundy-Shaq dispute is the only news of note, you know it's a slow news day. That's why it's time to check out some cheerleaders. Specifically, let's travel to the land of gumbo and voodoo, and check out some New Orleans Hornets cheerleaders!



Yikes. As tough as that was to watch, it does makes sense. When I visited New Orleans, I put on about 5 pounds over the course of a week on two of the city's primary specialties: Booze and fatty foods. In fact, I had slept on a bed of stewed sausage, crawfish, and Jim Beam bottles. Had I stayed there for an additional week I would look exactly like the red haired cheerleader seen above (I don't have red hair, but I can only imagine what shennanigans would engulf me from a second week partying on Bourbon Street).

I say if we are going with large lady cheerleaders, we should just go right to the bottom of the barrel and and get New Orleans prostitutes to dance. This would allow me to realize my dream of a cheerleading squad named the "New Orleans Whore-nets".

What The...?

Mark Cuban is saying rather extreme things lately, like how he will get rid of all of his players if they keep performing the way they perform. He should take a look at what his organization is doing in general, because something tells me the whole thing is f***ed.

That "something" that is telling me this is this halftime performer at a game in Dallas recently.



I commend Steven Hawking for learning to play the trombone, and give him an extra special golf clap that he has regained control of his legs, but that still is no excuse for making people watch this. The only thing that would have saved this is if the Suns gorilla came out of nowhere, clotheslined him, and proceeded to play the trombone as he walked off with the guy's girlfriend. Now THAT would have been entertainment.

Discussing Who Is The Real Superman

Normally I find anything involving Ahmad Rashad to be completely moronic and devoid of any type of information that I would find useful whatsoever. Thus, it came as a surprise to me when I watched this clip about who the real Superman was and found myself entertained.



-Granted, I wasn't entertained by Ahmad in any way (if you don't count me enjoying how uncomfortable it was when the panelists look at the screen, waiting for the clip to roll, and it never does...or at the end when he can't find the right word and just gives up), but I'll throw him a bone because he was marginally involved in the segment.

For the record, as much as Dwight is my boy and Shaq ruined the Magic franchise for years to my horror, I have to go with Shaq as the true Superman. Everyone talks about the athletic ability, but the guy is simply the best entertainer the league will ever know. For this, even I have to love him.

Bosh Is So Out Of There...And I'll Tell You Where He'll Go!

If you were making bets on "likeliest to wind up in a new destination in 2010", I would bet everything you own and even some of your friends' stuff that Chris Bosh will be out of Toronto. Bosh is a superstar, yet gets about 1/8th the publicity of people like Elton Brand because he is in Canada (which in most peoples' minds is similar to that rocky area that Frodo, Sam and Gollum were walking around in the Two Towers).

As if you needed any further backing up on this front, Bosh has started talking about how publicly disappointed he is in the Raptors this season. Once a player starts saying things like this:

"If you would have told me in October that we were going to be fighting just to make the playoffs, I wouldn't have believed you," Bosh said. "I've had worse years as far as the team is concerned but this has been the toughest, yeah, only because the expectations were so high and things just didn't happen like we thought they would."

...you know it's over. The guy has begun the first step of removing himself and letting other teams know that he can be had: Saying his team is having problems, but not identifying himself in any way as part of the problem. Just return the Bosh jerseys, kids, while you can still trade them to pawn shops for cash (I have a Magic McGrady jersey that I still regret buying right before he got traded).

I've been saying it for almost a year know, so it's about time I put it in print: I forsee Chris Bosh signing with the New York Knicks in 2010. They'll have the money. He'll want the added exposure. Even if Lebron doesn't wind up a knick, I think Bosh will be the next long-necked player to be in a blue and orange non-Thunder jersey since Spreewell. You heard it here first.

Now if you need me, I'll be watching The Two Towers on HD. Goodness, Canada is such a god-forsaken land!