A Preview of the Nets-Knicks Game

Two trust fund kids failing out of Columbia, both ask the dean for one more chance. She says if either of them pass Thursday’s philosophy exam (35 multiple choice, two essays), she’ll let them stay. For now. Otherwise, they’re gone. Neither has showed up much for class this semester (or ever, really), but they do possess the mental capacity to pass one exam. But one of the dudes is in the middle of an ugly nine-day bender, and isn’t showing signs of shaking it off any time soon. The other just had a really weird break-up thing that he told everybody about on Facebook, but he claims it’s not really a break-up, just a change. But he also says that there wasn’t really anything to change since the relationship was never what people thought it was in the first place. Anyway, it’s messing up his school work that was already suffering.

And for some reason the exam is being broadcast on TNT. It's going to be awesome.

What The Playoffs Mean: The Gorgeous Opportunity To Lose

The playoffs are the sacred text, broad and malleable enough to explain any point of view. They are the way players reach immortality, the way GMs keep their jobs for another year. They are the reason Courtney Lee, Trevor Ariza, JJ Barea and Derek Fisher are kind of close to household names. They are why they play the games and why we watch. But they also mean a lot more than this, which is why we are here. From now until the end of the finals, we'll be here, toiling away, trying to unpack exactly what makes these games so great, exactly What The Playoffs Mean.

This post was written by Benny Nadeau, an editorial intern at The Brooklyn Game, student at Emerson College and a Nets fan who uses "we" when talking about the team. He loves Toko Shengelia more than anyone, and we love him for that. Follow him @bennyflyz.


As a New Jersey Nets fan for so long, there is something incredibly painless about losing now. The Nets haven’t made the playoffs since the 2006-2007 season, and it has made me as hardened as my father who grew up with the chokiest of Red Sox teams. I cried when we traded Jason Kidd to the Dallas Mavericks in 2008 so he could get a legitimate shot of winning a championship (he did) and learned to be unfairly skeptical about any NBA player with the last name of Williams (after drafting Marcus, Sean, Terrence). After enduring the miserable-record-setting 0-18 start to the 2009-2010 season en route to a horrifying 12-70 campaign, it was tough to see through the tears clouding my vision—but, to be fair, it was equally as hard to see through the paper bags as well.

Through all of this, there was hope: John Wall. The freakishly athletic would-be superstar out of Kentucky was the clear-cut top prize in the 2010 draft. And at a 25 percent chance at landing the number one pick and the savior to our floundering franchise, I decided to have an NBA Draft Lottery party. I invited all of my friends—the same ones who had given me reminders at every possible moment of the Nets’ futility—over to watch my team enter a new era of basketball.

I watched through my hands when the New Jersey Nets received the 3rd pick in the lottery. John Wall would go to Washington and the curse continued.

Its taken some time, but in an odd way, things have worked out.

NBA Middle Names: Reggie Evans

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?

Reginald Jamaal Evans

Sick Priest Learns To Last Forever

I left the first Barclays Nets-Knicks game at halftime.

Emails From Pete: Once In A Lifetime

Hi. You know Pete, right? He wrote this. And this. Good guy. Great guy. Occasionally, Pete will bless the No Regard staff with an email of mythic levels. (Although as someone noted the other day, Pete is not concerned with levels.) Historically, they've been about what he ate for dinner the night before. From now on, we're going to share some of them with you so you can laugh with us, not at us. (C'mon, seriously, stop laughing at us.) The only backstory you need for this email is that it was sent to the nine of us who, with Pete, own Brooklyn Nets season tickets.

"Imagine what it would be like to get to see the greatest team in the history of basketball make their debut performance in Brooklyn, live, with your own two god-given eyes?!

Would you call it a New Years Miracle? A gift from our almighty Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth? Or simply the best day of your life?

You guessed it folks, next Friday's Phoenix Suns tickets could be yours, easily yours, with the simple act of swapping with myself, Peter Dick Brownell.

Luis Scola ring any bells? Goran Dragic tickle any funny bones? Michael FUCKING Beasley fire up the pistons in your amygdala?

Do you realize this game has the chance to be the best game in NBA history? Could it go to 7 overtimes? Probably. Might Latrell Sprewell rush to court to finish what he started with P.J. Carls? More than likely.

What will you tell your great grand kids when they're watching the most epic sporting event in the history of humanity, and you had the opportunity to see it, up close and personal? Cry probably, you'll probably start bawling.

Don't make that mistake.

Contact me to trade. Just do it, Nike."

No Regard Employment Placement Services: Coach Avery Johnson

It's not our job to discuss whether the firing of Avery Johnson was a justifiable decision by Brooklyn. We are not here to talk tactics, x's and or o's, or if canning a dude who was awarded "Coach of the Month" a scant month ago is a strong move or selfish and fake by the Nets.

We are here to do what we do: lend a helping hand to a man we have never met, but who seems admirable and pleasant enough. What can we say, this is not the life we chose but rather the life that chose us.

So we have combed through link after link on the always-famous, forever-charitable craigslist.com to see what new jobs we can find for the recently sacked Coach Avery. Hopefully he can avoid those nasty lines for unemployment checks with our help.

No Regard Previews: Alliteration

One Game We Will Definitely Watch Tonight: Brooklyn Nets vs. Boston Celtics

No doubt beaming about their first opportunity to meet the BrooklyKnight in person, Doc Rivers and the gang head to what is affectionately known as "BK" tonight for an Atlantic Conference showdown with the Nets (formerly of New Jersey, FYI). The dubious storyline for tonight's basketball match is the health of the ever-spectacular, Rajon Rondo. If he suits up, fans will be treated to a game of point-guard chess between two of the world's best round-ball quarterbacks. If Rondo is in formal wear on the bench, then Deron Williams and Joe Johnson should be able to "run this town tonight." That's a Jay-Z lyric, FYI. He's part owner of the Nets, FYI.

Either way, Rondo will likely make the trip, look his best and beam outwardly when he accepts an autograph from the world's most important mascot, the BrooklyKnight.

Both Brooklyn and Boston are coming off victories in their previous basketball contests. The Cs put the ball in the hoop more frequently than the Jazz last night while the Nets did the same against the Cavaliers a few evenings ago.

Some other food for thought: Who will guard Paul Pierce? While Joe Johnson definitely has the size, one has to wonder if he's a skilled enough marksman (yeah, that word makes sense for a defender also) to slow down the always clever, never predictable Pierce. Word around the grapevine is that rebounds are important too, in winning games, so it should be tantalizing to watch and see if KG can slow down the absolute rebounding monster that is Kris Humphries. Even your little sister who hates sports knows that Boston doesn't have to worry about Brook Lopez on the glass. Rumor around the water-cooler is that he's literally allergic to rebounds.

One Game We Won't Watch Tonight: San Antonio Spurs vs. New York Knicks

Sorry but I'm not looking to party like it's 1999 tonight. Allan Houston ain't walking through that door. He's watching the game with a tie on from a luxury box.

No Regard Presidential Previews: Brooklyn Nets (Thomas J. Whitmore)

Oh the season. Oh the season! Election or NBA, both are upon us. We're getting into the spirit by bringing you our season previews (with a little help from the presidents). One per day for the next 30 days—which will bring us to the Day of Reckoning. So please join us on the campaign trail as we shake hands, kiss babies and sink jumpers.

"We are fighting for our right to live. To exist. And should we win the day, the Fourth of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day the world declared in one voice: We will not go quietly into the night! We will not vanish without a fight! We're going to live on! We're going to survive! Today we celebrate our Independence Day!" - Thomas J. Whitmore

A fictional team deserves a fictional president. But since they are the team I root for, the Brooklyn Nets get the greatest fictional president in this country's fictional history: Thomas J. Whitmore.

Whitmore led his country, and (in Roland Emmerich's xenophobic world view) the rest of the planet, through dark, dangerous times. The only way he was in a position to do this, though, was by narrowly escaping certain death in the flamboyant destruction of the White House, the most famous explosion of all time. You'll never catch me saying an unkind word about Jersey, but the Izod Center was a well-known awful home for the Nets for some time. To protect the brave men and women who loved and cared for the team, the Nets had to get out. Grab the kids, grab the dog, grab a world-class point guard and get out.

Even after escape, the odds were long against Whitmore and his country. They needed a plan and a little luck. But first, Whitmore needed to rally the troops, who were not really troops, but a rag-tag group of refugees. Perfect.

You know the Independence Day Speech. You watch the scene every July 4th because you know how to celebrate all that is good and just in this oppressive world. It's the finest example of presidential oration ever committed to tape. It's the rally cry to rally all future rally cries. Whitmore's words urged those fighter pilots to gladly and determinedly fly into unknown oblivion, equal parts possible glory and possible death. The incredibly deft marketing propaganda that the Nets organization has produced is Whitmore's speech. The Nets have convinced thousands of folks with disposable income that this as-of-now fictional cause is where they need to place their faith and allegiance. Much of a borough—and a few pockets of other metro area citizens—has bought into something that doesn't exist yet and that may very easily cause them suffering in the future. (Obviously, the Nets have been around for many years at this point, but the Nets team/experience that we are now being promised is brand new and, until the actual team plays an actual game on their actual court, not real.)

What comes next is what matters, though. The planes are in the air. Instructions have been given. Randy Quaid is sobering up. The plan is underway. Jeff Goldblum and Will Smith are inside the mothership. Now? It's time for the Nets to get on the court and prove that, indeed, they are real thing.

Rushed Pull-Up Jumpers

Pokemon who the team should adopt as its new mascot: Unown

Headline we'll be most sick of reading: "Hello Brooklyn"

Headline we're most looking forward to: "Reggie Evans Spends Entire Game Shaking Hands of Every Fan in Arena, Boosts Morale"

If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you enter the pearly gates?: "This is really fun, but I was really hoping it'd work in Jersey."

Goodbye New York, Hello Brooklyn

This post is written by law student and former Knicks fan Matt Engel. We couldn't be happier to post this here.

Divorce. Despite the frequency with which it’s used, it is still a nasty business. The kids (if they exist) always get hurt. There’s endless acrimony about dividing money and property. Lucky to have been personally unaffected, from what I’ve heard from friends and seen in movies, divorce brings out the worst in people. Still, despite the pain, after it’s all over and done with, divorce can provide the promise for a new beginning, for something better.

For years in the United States, a divorce could only be accomplished if the party seeking dissolution found a legal fault with his/her incompatible counterpart. Now, though, with the advent of “no-fault” divorce, a marriage may be ended for such excellent vagaries as Irreconcilable Differences, Incompatibility, and my personal favorite, Irredeemable Breakdown of the Marriage. In 2010, New York became the last state to move from a legal scheme that allowed only fault divorces, to one that permits no-fault divorces as well.

Without wasting any more of my or your time, I’ll assert my privilege: Goodbye, New York Knicks.

If You See Something, Say Something: Giraffes, Secret Gardens and Petro's Game

IYSSSS is our semi-regular Internet intelligence report, a liberal arts approach to following the NBA on the Web. E-mail us at jewsforjesusshuttlesworth@gmail.com if you've got any suggestions.

LeBron James is Not Taller Than a Giraffe: After recently purchasing a stake in the historic English football club Liverpool, LeBron James headed across the pond to check out his investment in person. This video details the highlights of the King's trip, which includes meeting Liverpool skipper Steven Gerrard and attending a Manchester United-Liverpool match. Skip ahead to the end of the spot to "Small Talk" in which LeBron is grilled by a group of English kids. Questions like, "LeBron, shouldn't your first name be James?" and "LeBron, have you always been tall?" keep the Miami Heat superstar on his toes. LBJ does confirm that he is in fact, not taller than a giraffe.

Our Favorite Canadian's Secret: Here's another neat video worth watching! This NBA.com player profile takes a peak into Steve Nash's lifestyle, specifically his work ethic, diet and fitness regime. While Thunder Dan Majerle believes Steve's success comes from his insatiable desire to be the best, Channing Frye has his own theory: He hypothesizes that Nash has a "secret garden of magical fruits and vegetables" that has kept him fit late into his 30s. I tend to agree with Frye.

Jay-Z's Value to the Brooklyn Nets: The New Jersey Nets are struggling and Jay-Z just became a new father. But as the Nets continue to prepare for their move across two rivers, the entertainment mogul won't let either of these variables affect his strong influence over almost all the decisions being made by the franchise. From providing opinions on jersey colors to weighing in on architectural design questions, it's clear that Hova is more concerned about the Nets going 0-82 than he lets on.

Johan Petro's Fascinating Story: We leave you with Johan Petro's website, http://www.johanpetro27.com. Not wanting to give away too many of the treasures this Internet goldmine contains, here's how Petro's game is described in the biography section: "When you describe the prototypical NBA center, he is not complete without superlative size, strength and athleticism. He'll fight for rebounds in the trenches, but is just as quick to burn you with a shot from 15 feet. Johan Petro possesses all these skills and more, and bears all the promise of fulfilling his vast potential." That pretty much sums up exactly how I feel about Petro's game. Wait, I'm sorry, I forgot who we're talking about.

Who's Got My Miracle?

Monday's visit from the Hawks is pretty much exhibit A of what I will miss next year when the Nets leave New Jersey for Blue Ivy's billion-dollar nursery. I'm not talking about five-point losses that are much less contested than the final score indicates (though the team will hopefully improve next season). I'm also not referring to coach Avery Johnson's infuriating rotations. (It's borderline indefensible to play only eight guys in a drubbing when two guys who played zero minutes—Sundiata Gaines and DeShawn Stevenson—bring exactly the type of defensive Four Loko that last night's party desperately needed.)

I am instead talking about the ridiculous ease with which one can attend an NBA game in New Jersey right now.