Happy Memorial Day!

Cheers to a great NBA finals.

Kurt Thomas Returns!

While the Miami Heat's triumphant comeback last night sealed a 2006 finals re-match with the Dallas Mavericks, the real and lasting story was Kurt Thomas and his epic return to the court. Thomas provided a much needed spark in his team's losing effort and as Steve Kerr aptly noted, added a new layer of scoring for the offensively challenged Chicago Bulls.

After sitting out the entire Eastern Conference Finals, Kurt Thomas was called upon due to the injury of Omer Asik. Thomas, a cagey-veteran and the second oldest player in the league, did not disappoint. His four points and eight rebounds in 18 minutes of play were vital to Chicago's success (you know, until they lost). The Bulls would have been cooked from tip-off without Kurt Thomas.

Kurt Thomas has had a long and storied career in the NBA. He's dominated for 15 years, battling in the paint and making a name for himself with nine different teams. Coach Thib needs to embark on some serious self-reflection for not playing Thomas more during this series. It almost certainly cost them a championship ring.

Happy Memorial Day, Kurt Thomas.

Who'd You Get?!: Reggie Miller, SkyBox (1990)

We at No Regard used to collect basketball cards. Convincing a parent to shuttle us and our friends to the local collector's shop was a consistently important victory. When we found out KMart was selling entire boxes for $20, we almost wore out our bike tires pedaling back and forth.

Now we've unearthed the cache, and the results are stunning. We've been reminded that players named Dino Radja and Wesley Person briefly and forcefully carved out steady roles for themselves in the league. We've been straight tickled by the goofy casual pics. And we've been touched and inspired by the relentless optimism of the copywriters. We hope you enjoy this odd time capsule, a Utopian angle from which to view the league, where everyone is the next somebody and context is pointless.

Back of the card after the jump.

In Cold Blood With A Toothpick

For a league in which the current trend seems to be all about budding young superstars, the Dallas Mavericks proved that age and cunning can still beat youth and vigor. Carried on the shoulders of one of the most remarkable individual shooting performances in conference finals history, the Mavs bested OKC 4-1, in a series that was more closely contested than its final scoreline.

It's obvious to point to Nowitzki's lights-out shooting as the main catalyst for success in Dallas this year, but Cuban's army received contributions from many different parties.

There was the ridiculously smart point-guard play from veteran Jason Kidd who, lost in all of this, has his third chance now to finally obtain the NBA's most precious jewelry. The inside presence of Tyson Chandler, whose passion for rebounding and defense compliment Dirk's offensive mastery to perfection. Jet Terry did what he's always done, hit shots and then spread his arms out like that of an airplane. Shawn Marion's resurgence, J.J. Barea's slicing penetration... the list goes on.

Up next for Big D is most likely the Miami Heat, who will provide an immense challenge. I'm tickled thinking about some of these matchups: Bron on Dirk, DeShawn on Bron, that crazy $5 bill tattoo on DeShawn, the ballsy Larry O'Brien trophy tattoo on Jet, Jet on Super Nintendo Chalmers, Super Nintendo Chalmers on J.J. Barea, J.J. Barea on Mike Bibby, Mike Bibby on Jason Kidd in the 2011 NBA Finals!

It should be a hell of a series, if for no other reason than we'll be seeing (barring history by the Chicago Bulls) the two best teams in the playoffs led by the two best players in the playoffs. While Dallas might feel somewhat satisfied knowing that many of the "experts" didn't even pick them to beat Portland in the first round, they know that right now second place will not satisfy the public. We need them to be more than an also-ran.

Shock the world, Dallas Mavericks.

Question of the Day

After a devastating game four loss, in which the young folks from OKC crumbled at the hands of the massive German Gentleman, the Thunder face elimination tonight. If they lose, like everyone kind of thinks they will, will this franchise recover and make it back to the Western finals next year? Or will the hangover from this collapse carryover to an unproductive season and haunt these guys for years to come?

NBA Middle Names: Mike Miller

We at No Regard spend a lot of time in our NBA knitting circles trying to figure out the human side of these players. Whether it's musing about their commutes to work, how much "Call of Duty" they play, or what their favorite snack food is, we like to remind ourselves that NBA players are nothing more than young men with enviable jobs. What better way to humanize our heroes than look up their middle names?

Michael Lloyd Miller

Who'd You Get?!: Allen Iverson, Fleer Ultra (1998)

We at No Regard used to collect basketball cards. Convincing a parent to shuttle us and our friends to the local collector's shop was a consistently important victory. When we found out KMart was selling entire boxes for $20, we almost wore out our bike tires pedaling back and forth.

Now we've unearthed the cache, and the results are stunning. We've been reminded that players named Dino Radja and Wesley Person briefly and forcefully carved out steady roles for themselves in the league. We've been straight tickled by the goofy casual pics. And we've been touched and inspired by the relentless optimism of the copywriters. We hope you enjoy this odd time capsule, a Utopian angle from which to view the league, where everyone is the next somebody and context is pointless. 

Back of the card after the jump.

Sometimes Picking The Right Guy To Root For Is Easy

Nobody Knew That They Were All Dead

Once again, the Miami Heatles, led by their three best players, took over the fourth quarter of a game that was close throughout to put a stranglehold on the Eastern conference finals. There are a few different angles worth analyzing when discussing last night's game.

If This Is What The Rapture Looks Like...

... then I don't think there's much to worry about.

Sick LeBron, Aching for a Statue, and McHale vs. the Frank

The Miami Heat evened the Eastern Conference finals on Wednesday night with stifling defense and another impressive fourth quarter performance from LeBron James. With the series knotted at one game a piece headed back to South Beach, here's what we gathered from game two:

NBA Middle Names: Udonis Haslem

We at No Regard spend a lot of time in our NBA knitting circles trying to figure out the human side of these players. Whether it's musing about their commutes to work, how much "Call of Duty" they play, or what their favorite snack food is, we like to remind ourselves that NBA players are nothing more than young men with enviable jobs. What better way to humanize our heroes than look up their middle names?

Udonis Johneal Haslem

Slippery-Dirk, the Backpack, and the Future of the Cavs

When it rains, it pours. And sometimes it even monsoons. Particularly when Dirk Nowitzki is being single-covered for an entire playoff game. The seven-foot German sharpshooter had his way with the Thunder last night, paying no mind to the likes of Serge Ibaka, Kevin Durant or whoever else was unlucky enough to be covering the Maverick power-forward. Coach Brooks made his strategy clear: He's okay with Dirk getting his, but refuses to allow the Dallas supporting cast to be left open. After Dirk's perfect showing from the stripe and nearly perfect mid-range performance, the OKC strategist may want to go back to the drawing board.

We have seen magical Dirk in years past, and if it weren't for a corrupt dirt-bag of an official there's a good chance he'd have a championship ring wrapped around his finger. We shouldn't be surprised after watching him dismantle Tim Duncan and company back in '06, scoring 37 in a decisive game seven in San Antonio on 15-16 from the line and 11-20 from the field. Or how about during the same playoffs where his cool 50 points gave Dallas a 3-2 lead over Phoenix in the Western finals? No, this is nothing new for Dirk.

So why is it then, that the Thunder refused to double him last night? Shouldn't they at least attempt to get the rock out of his hands, forcing the likes of Jason Kidd (once known as "Ason" Kidd because he had no J) and Jet Terry, who is impressive but not even close to Dirk's level, beat them? There's an argument to be made about letting a superstar get his points while containing his teammates, but in the case of a guy who refuses to miss, it simply will not work.

More importantly, Durant's backpack is great addition to the legend that is KD.

Also, Kyrie Irving, Kemba Walker and JJ Hickson: Ladies and gentlemen meet your 2011-2012 Cleveland Cavaliers! Lebron who?

Countin' Those Chickens

The Miami Heat are now twice guilty of celebrating a championship victory before actually winning one. We all remember the silly-ass event in which the newly constructed Big 3 paraded around smoke machines, fist-pumped like buffons and declared they were going to win "not four, not five..." And after besting Boston, "the three best friends that anyone could have" went bonkers, comporting themselves as if they had just vidicated their actions during the summer. King James even apologized to Cleveland for how he left Cleveland. Bold move for a guy that hadn't even gotten through the East, let alone the Western Champs.

Well, they got a rude awakening Sunday night as Derrick Rose all but stated, "Did you forget that we already made you cry once this season?" Most satisfying for the Heat-haters in this world were certainly Taj Gibson's posterization of Wade and Noah's sickly block on Miami's two-guard. Flash should feel thoroughly embarrassed after these two plays.

Of course, this is only game one. No doubt, the Heatles can come back and win this series. But if they don't, it must be stated that celebrating like a crazy person should be reserved for when a team actually wins a title. Not after a few contracts have been inked or a second round matchup has been won over a team whose most pivotal player is competing with one arm.

Clowns.

Robert "Tractor" Traylor: 1977-2011

Today we lost one of the greatest nicknames in all of sports. Read Eamonn Brennan's warm piece over at ESPN to see what else was lost. Then check out what YouTube has in their library and marvel at what the man was capable of.

Sad, Angry, and Clowns Everywhere

[Editor's Note: Even though Pete is a founding member of and almost-daily contributor to this site, the rest of us sometimes see the need—both online and in public—to reel him in. He's a passionate gentleman, and sometimes his fiery disposition can get the best of him. However, on days following debilitating losses by his beloved Celtics, he's got free reign to speak his mind. But just remember, the views of Peter do not necessarily reflect the views of No Regard. Except all the stuff about Bosh being a clown; we're all on the same page there.]

NBA Middle Names: Jeff Teague

We at No Regard spend a lot of time in our NBA knitting circles trying to figure out the human side of these players. Whether it's musing about their commutes to work, how much "Call of Duty" they play, or what their favorite snack food is, we like to remind ourselves that NBA players are nothing more than young men with enviable jobs. What better way to humanize our heroes than look up their middle names?

Jeffrey Demarco Teague

Mamba's Last Stand

While Mark Cuban was undoubtedly lighting up a victory cigar after returning to Dallas with a 2-0 lead on the two-time defending champion Lakers, I imagine Kobe Bryant, the game's fiercest and most competitive player was fuming, aggressively lifting jump-shots in an empty gym while plotting his team's comeback. Pundits, experts and fans have written off Los Angeles, stating claims like, "Pau Gasol is soft and can't stop Dirk" and "Kobe is too old to dominate a seven game series." I hate the Lakers, but I truly believe they will pull this off; when you've got the kid from Lower Merion, PA (via Italy) on your team, his insatiable desire for perfection offers light in the darkest of situations.

I don't need to remind of you the Mamba's resume, because his accolades aren't why I'm convinced he will bring L.A. back from the dead. No, Kobe is driven by a greater calling...

NBA Middle Names: Ron Artest

We at No Regard spend a lot of time in our NBA knitting circles trying to figure out the human side of these players. Whether it's musing about their commutes to work, how much "Call of Duty" they play, or what their favorite snack food is, we like to remind ourselves that NBA players are nothing more than young men with enviable jobs. What better way to humanize our heroes than look up their middle names?

Ronald William Artest

Kazaam to the Rescue

Like George Washington (or Abe Lincoln?), I cannot tell a lie: I'm extremely down right now about my Celtics. After two bad losses at the hands of LeBron, Wade and Jackass Jones, my hopes are wearing thin. Yet, there's one X-factor that leaves me with a strange sense of confidence that Beantown can turn things around, with the series shifting to Massachusetts. Where does my audacious sense of belief come from? Squarely on the shoulder's of the league's oldest, fattest and, at one point, most dominate player.

Talent Trumps Talent

I guess I'm late here, but I'm finally ready to take this Miami Heat team seriously. All season I've ignored the stats, even though the team was ruling all the areas that best prove post-season success, because I'm a stubborn person. They led the league in point differential—which hoop junkies know is wildly prescient in terms of predicting champions—and finished the season as the only team in the top five in both offensive and defensive efficiency. But I got hung up on what has turned out to be minutia. I thought, "Mike Miller doesn't do anything anymore except rebound and look like a surly lesbian"; or "Surely you can't expect much from a team that jumped to sign Mike Bibby and his giant headband because he was clearly an upgrade for them at point guard"; or "Jam Band Jones literally does nothing except for catch and shoot from behind the arc"; and finally "What is a Joel Anthony?"

I believed all these sorry parts, even next to Wade and LeBron, wouldn't amount to anything more than a second round exit.

But, as outrageous as this is going to sound, I forgot one important factor...

The Confidence Interval of the Atlanta Hawks

It must be a great time to be a Hawks fan. They finally bested big brother Orlando in convincing fashion, Dominique Wilkins is fist pumping quite frequently in the stands, and Joe Johnson is wetter than the Thunder Canyon water ride at Dorney Park. Not to mention last night's thievery of home-court advantage against Chicago, in a game that was never really in contention. After a few years of pathetic playoff performances, this team appears ready to take the Bulls to the brink.

Celtics-Heat Game 1: Let's Get Physical, Physical

Yesterday's game one matchup in the Eastern semis between Boston and Miami presented what is likely to be the case for seven games: chippy basketball between two teams that so clearly hate each other, it's beyond Romeo and Juliet shit. Here are some (increasingly belligerent) thoughts that I jotted down as I watched in anguish, sipping Bud Light Wheats (or whatever they're called; good though, very good beer) and yelling at my television.