Monday, May 23, 2011

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.

We could praise Bosh for dropping 34 on effective shooting, but watching him smack his face and chest after knocking down each one of his 16-footers hurt my heart.

We could wax poetic about the Bulls lack of offensive firepower in the fourth quarter, in which its own big three of Rose, Boozer and Hot Deng couldn't a gosh darn thing. But witnessing the league's MVP try to carry a team whose players look just above mediocre right now brought back memories of LeBron during the Cleveland era, a time we aren't itching to revisit.

Then there's Noah: His 0-4, five-rebound meltdown was overlooked after TNT's coverage caught him using the same homophobic slur towards a fan that Kobe Bryant shouted at an official earlier this season. Considering Joakim is competing in 2011 in what is perhaps the country's most progressive sports league (with so much positive discourse currently going on about acceptance), this was downright shitty to see.

Or we could once again state how LeBron—whose purple shirt and blazer combination (pictured below) was understated, but still looked sharp—has pretty much sealed each one of these playoff victories with a steal and breakaway layup or dunk. (Kyle Korver, why foul him on that? Just get the fuck out of the way next time so none of us have to worry about watching a man take his last breath.) But you're probably not interested in reading another missive on how/why LeBron James is talented.

Through all of these half-formed or stale narratives, though, comes that fact that Andrew so eloquently argued a few weeks back: Talent Trumps Talent. It doesn't matter how many tricky defensive schemes Coach T throws at Wade and Bron; they're too good not to figure out how to score buckets.

I'm usually not one to count my chickens prematurely, but this really is starting to look like an epic seven years in South Beach.

No comments:

Post a Comment

ShareThis