Was this fated to happen? Inevitably, was it decided I would fall in love with you, Sho Sakurai, in this way?

The simple answer: yes.

Although I have no regrets, I do tend to feel on the down side, but I’ll keep believing.

Because believing in something impossible will make it possible. I know it.

Muita gente, eu disse muita gente passou por lá. Meia noite já estava com um fila na porta que ia até a esquina. Leia Bastos ficava no tapete vermelho. Três figuras históricas recebiam a gente: Alisson Gothz, Katia Miranda, Michael Love.

Era a noite do Nene, o Tapa na Pantera, e só faltou mesmo a Nega Nervous, que mora em Berlim, e que começou a história de terça con ele. Eu conheço há mais de 10 anoa cada um. Quando cheguei era o Atum que estava yocando na pista principal. O Luca Lauri entrou logo depois. Quando saí de lá, já estava dificil a locomoção no clube.

Fui pra cima e ainda escutei o Johnny Luxo tocando. Ao lado dele, Edu Corelli. Mais dancinha & conversinha. Esta hora eu já estava me divertindo muito. Desci e fui encontrando o povo: Roque Castro, Silvio Giorgi, Dani Ueda, Thiago Ferraz, Cadu Alves, a moda dizendo Presente!

O Facundo Guerra, também foi tirar o chapéu pro Anibal. Resolvi ir pro lugar mais VIP da noite paulistana, O Ecritório. Tipo Encontro com as Estrelas: Adriana Recchi, Luma Assis, Vivi Flacksbaum, Gisa Gabriel, Vitor Angelo, Ivi Brasil, Luiz Careca. A partir daí, é só amnésia!

Luma Assis e Anibal em momento fantasia!

As the free-agent signing period got under way Wednesday, so did a handful of teams quick to spend serious money to improve their teams. Naturally, the salaries creep up a bit from previous years, but there are always some really questionable deals made that just have people scratching their heads as to what kind of dope the GM was taking at the time. Thus far in 2008, I find virtually every signing absolutely ridiculous sans Gilbert Arenas, Antawn Jamison and Chris Paul. The following is a list of the 5 worst deals in the first two days.

5) Roger Mason, PG: 2-year, $8 million deal with San Antonio
Last year's stats: 21.3 min, 9.1 pts, 1.7 ast
Analysis: The Spurs have a number of aging free agents this season but didn't bode well with Mason, who at best would be Manu Ginobili's backup at the 2-guard. Yet, the Spurs will make Mason the fifth-highest paid player on the team behind their trio and Bruce Bowen. Not what you want to pay for a guy whose career averages are 5.5 points and 1.1 assists.

4) Elton Brand, PF: 5-year, $80 million deal with Philadelphia
Last year's stats: 8 G, 17.6 pts, 8.0 reb, 1.9 blk
Analysis: "Elton Brand didn't leave for the money." Partly true. Brand was hurt that the Clippers took him for granted and offered $20 million less than the 76ers, but in the end, the Clippers' face for the past seven years just saw a better chance of winning in the easier Eastern Conference - the reason why he turned down $10 million more to be at Golden State, which would have been a really ridiculous deal.

3) Corey Maggette, SF: 5-year, $50 million deal with Golden State
Last year's stats: 22.1 pts, 5.6 reb, 2.7 ast
Analysis: The Clippers created $130 million of space for the next five years with the departure of Brand and Maggette. It's reported that their sights are currently on Hawks forward Josh Smith to fill Brand's void, but an inactive offseason is just prep time for the incredible summers of '09 and '10, the latter appropriately named the summer of LeBron.

2) Andrew Bogut, C: 5-year, $60 million extension with Milwaukee
Last year's stats: 14.3 pts, 9.8 reb, 1.7 blk
Analysis: The Bucks just acted like they were a fantasy team that overpaid for a center. The number one overall draft pick in 2005 has improved every year in his short 3-year career but is almost making as much money as Yao Ming, who last year made $13.8 million and averaged 22 and 11.

1) DeSagana Diop, C: 5-year, $31 million deal with Dallas
Last year's stats: 16.5 min, 2.9 pts, 5.0 reb
Analysis: Speaking of overpaid centers, can someone please explain to me what the Mavericks are attempting to do at the center position? This deal is reminiscent of Nene's atrocious 6-year, $60 million contract with Denver two years ago. With Erick Dampier's 7-year, $73 million contract, the two will combine for $17 million a year and 9.0 points and 12.5 rebounds per game for one position.

A look ahead: The Los Angeles Lakers are looking to make their All-Star squad that much better with rumors of interest in Ron Artest. Artest, who recently exercised his option to stay in Sacramento, would likely be dealt in addition to someone for Lamar Odom, to match Odom's salary. Stay tuned for the latest in the signing period.

Bereavement and Redemption

The sulpicio lines tragedy hits close to the heart  and I haven't really been done with grief.  But then too, I have to do anger management.  The bad reaction of government, letting the sulpicio operate once again dahil bad for the economy daw, is in poor taste.

What will happen if RP will have better ships, specially sulpicio?

The tragedy should never have had happened at all.  But that is preposterous.  Pure wishful thinking.  It will take an honest-to-goodness coup d’ etat by good-hearted people and real leaders to change the way things are, unless our present leaders wake up to reality and start not walking backwards but a little forward even if an inch or a millimeter at a time.

So much is in store for the country, but of course only a mere few know that.  And I cannot even tell you anything of it.  At least not on this blog.  But go to the US and Canada and you might get wind of it.  Ask your friends back in the States.  They know.  It’s just the poor Juan de la Mahinahon who is absolutely clueless of his very, very, very good fortune to come!

That's why, compared  to New York (with the exception of a big chunk of states like Virginia -- let me take this occasion to say Hi!!!  to all the beautiful neighbors in John Denver country hehehe), this country the Philippines is much more preferable and loaded with hope!!!   Certainly you can't take a little optimism away from a fucking insatiable satirist and cynic like this writer.  Aba, pagbigyan mo na.  Paminsan-minsan.  Naman.  Namaaaan!!!

Very poor taste.  That  instant  allowing  of  suspicious lines to operate.  Of course the rest of the shipping industry’s facilities are inferior.  But where in the shipping industry and Philippine aviation is there no inferiority?  Where ?  pray tell…  hmmm?  …  that … hmmmm?

Gen. Teroy Isleta, one of the grand old men of aviation, says that Only In The Philippines can we see air planes (and presumably ships) that are bought as junk and made to fly (or sail) again.  Inay ku pu!!!  Hesusmaryosep!!!

These junks are bought at cheap cost, delivered to RP as chop-chop (remember the chop-chop cars?) and welded together to form a Voila!!!  Brand new (recon) vessel!!!

Hep, heeeeep!!!!  Hurrrraaaaay!!!!!!

Score one for the Marvel Comics scAvengers!!!!

Shit!

Ain’t anybody going to change that?  The Man with the Big Kapre Cigar, Wespowent Graduate, Engineer by degree (not by profession), could not change that.  How much more our dear Madam President, who Big Kapre Cigar Man says, is only a teacher!!!  Pray tell me, who are you voting for our next president?

Don’t tell me that it will be Barack Obama!!!  And his local boy!!! He (Barack) seems like a decrepit and seriously incapacitated idiot to become a world leader.  A vote for his accomplice in these parts will be our damnation!!!

We’ll continue to live in a fogged existence with all the chop-chop shit in our midst, corruption, mendicancy, inferiority, enslavement to the so-called much vaunted Bilderberg shits, and so on and so forth.

The sad part about it is Barack, and presto!  his local anointed prexy candidate might win!

Shit!  And double fuck!!!

But that really is bad for the victims of our latest controversial sea tragedy.  It means that there will be more victims come final showdown times.  And we’re not even talking of the end of the world.

And imagine, it can really only happen here.  Look at the people living in Corinthian Gardens.  They’re sitting on a big pile of soil, rocks, sweetly rolling landscaped sites, mansion / palatial sized houses, that are on top of a huge earthquake fault.

At least, when the big earthquake comes, along with a tsunami, then liquefaction to a superlative degree, all the filthy rich –  particularly those with a bad attitude to us their poorer brethren — will be taken by the lord who is allegedly in heaven.

Good riddance you fucks!!!

Unfortunately for these filthy damnable rich, the earthquake might come sooner than expected because of global warming.

Is it logical that we will see secret lipat bahay operations and hush-hush real estate deals in the immediate future between and among the residents of Corinthian Gardens and their willing buyer-victims?

Unless some of our beloved fucking Corinthianers are really pragmatics or future Corinthian Gardener residents are fearless nincompoops who will say that if it is truly their time na, they’ll just roll with the tremors and dance with the liquefying hearth and raise their hands to welcome the onrush of the tsunami that might still, by the grace of god, reach up to their necks in their part of the land.  Yeheeey!!!

Cheap shits!

So if the humble Corinthian Gardens citizens can afford to live in shaky and turbulent environment, why can’t we poor ones accept the fate of riding chop-chop ships, airplanes and buses all through our lives!  Sila nga tanggap na nila na mamatay sila pag nilamon sila ng lupa (buti nga!) tayo pa kaya na walang kuwenta?

There goes my bereaved feelings for the dead, drowned, eaten up and buried victims of sulpicio and future epitaph for the Corinthian Gardens fucks.

eghghghf

At 6 pm on July 2, 2008, Vice President Tito Guingona, Sr. coinciding with the birthday of Madam Imelda  Marcos, launched his memoirs at Manila Hotel, entitled Fight for the Filipino.  It is only fitting that the former President of the strongest political party fete himself and his friends with so-called significant memoirs for all scholars and soon-to-be famous countrymen to  study  and  extol  to high heavens in the future.  Fitting also that our beloved (albeit, bone thin and severely,  acutely  canceric and tubercolic -looking) vice president is a former fighter for freedom, democracy, etcetera, etcetera.  Etcetera.  Or at least that is what he wants us all to believe.

So the vice presidency?  Well-deserved.  Accolades for his book?  Very, very well-deserved.  Tito served his country.  Well.  Very, very well. 

But….

Some say that the most part of the book are not really about the life of one Tito Guingona but a quick gathering of highly selected anecdotes, claims, declarations, commentaries, ridicules, riddles, attempts at prose and poetry but all meant to spite Madam Gloria Arroyo.  All intended to denounce the regime under her and the boys and girls hiding under the Queen's skirts and doing unmentionable damned things underneath.  Sneaky Devil that Tito!!!

There is nothing in the book of course that tells us about the great, wholly entertaining addiction of entertainer son cinema and stage Director Bart Guingona (isn't he a closet or open gay?), the extreme addiction of G-Boy Guingona (isn't he the congressman or some other politician following after the footsteps of daddy daddy?)  as well as the  wild ways of Marie Guingona, most possibly also as an addict and confirmedly a drunkard.  She totally loves booze and sex, all in one sentence or one word altogether.

When she gets drunk, she mouths expletives against Madam Gloria.

Tito of course, most certainly, would not reveal a cloak and dagger type secret:  he was a stool pigeon among the real fighters of democracy.  He was a quisling of the security apparatchiks.  He was not a real reformist, revolutionary, etc.

He was…

A fake.It's  alright, his handlers would say,  He served the country well.  Indeed!  Hmmppph!!!

Look at his face, his bulging eyes, that seem to almost jump at you.  His body is so emaciated some people say, the only thing keeping his skin from falling off his bones are drugs.  When he was vice president and secretary of foreign affairs, he was reputed to be the drug addict Malacañang was touted for having  in  the  Cabinet.  Wow!!!

Dear  Tirititots KinKonga de Torotots  must be suffering from kArMa for having been the stool pigeon, gun runner, etc. that he is and for all the other bad things he has been doing to all his fellow creatures on earth.

You never really would have believed what he was doing and mouthing at Manila Peninsula Hotel during the siege.  As part cloak and dagger operator and overt political critic, former senator, executive secretary, foreign affairs department chief, ruling party president, etc. his role at Manila Pen could have all been a sham.  The man is really deep.  You can't fathom his soul.  It is buried somewhere that you can't see.  You have to go through a maze of layers and layers of hundreds of demons and their hives well-ensconced in his system before you reach that forsaken part called soul of Tirititot.

And up to now, he is still engaged in probably the same game.  His family is engaged in quick money and illegal schemes.  Outside of the drugs, his children and other family members were engaged in large scale gun running and alpine (I’ll Find You…) transactions and wheeling-dealings.

G-Boy and now a member of the congress, gleefully claim fucking Irene Marcos, another hopeless addict, when she was younger.  The respectable member of the congress even says, Irene, most definitely will never forget him and his deadly weapon (after marrying a faggot).

Tito today, even before the launching of his book, is a spent force.  Probably it has something to do with affiliating with the satanistas…  Of course, notwithstanding  the  very dark, secret and sinister  power of these cretins …

eghghghf

Homobono  ADAZA,  Sr., the arrested one, has no love lost with Tito Guingona.  Bono   was visited recently by Neneng Pimentel in his detention center.  Bono likewise does not have any goodwill with this old Neneng.

Pimentel and company ruined Bono and company with Tita Cory.  Pimentel and Guingona are two abominable terms, anathemas to Bono Adaza.

You cannot make Bono say the words “Pimentel” nor “Guingona” without making Bono puke to death!

Jesus!  Spare the old man!

But Pimentel made a show of good grace.  He went to Bono and commiserated with him.  The Great One.  Although Pimentel made bad jokes of who Bono is now.  That shit.

It is really not because Pimentel is running for president, because he will not even win in a fair fight in his own barangay, just like Guingona.  Both are demonyitos.

Possibly Pimentel is letting Bono know that whatever coup plans the other guy is entertaining, may Bono not forget Neneng, the wife (if she is still living), the children and OMG, susmaryosep!  the handsome and beautiful apos!  Dios Mio Bono, if anything happens will you promise not to take on them, vent your anger at me (and Tito Guingona) on them?  Please, please Bono!  Huhuhuhuhuhu!  Bonooooo!!!

Oh dear GOD!!!  Please please Bono!!!!

Is it true you’re heading the coup?  (doubtful)

If it is not, forget I visited you and forget you ever knew me and heard of my name.  (As if…)

On the other hand, if Bono will be the next president, I will be happy.  I might become the next Presidential Spokesman, Speech Writer, Press Secretary and Rasputin, all at the same time if he has not become demented enough and is pronounced only to be partially insane.

I too have my own redeeming values, by the way…  huuummmmpphhh!

eghghghf

Fortun is a lawyer of erap.

But sometimes  I do really think Bono was sincerely arrested by the government.  Or if Bono just sincerely was arrested without any agenda lurking behind the scenario?

Do you?

eghghghf

Bono is a lawyer of and bosom friend of Gen. Abenina, Gen. Comendador and the military rebels including Ariel Querubin et al.  Gen. Abenina’s boy is Raffy Cardeño. 

Fortun  is  not  known  as  Bono’s enemy.  Bono is supposedly bilking Fortun’s client, a despicable japon, with 4 million dollars.  (Does the japon really have that papel de cuarta?)

Mapalo  is  a legend.  In  the military he is a bold, bastos, extremist.  In the underworld, he is a veritable godfather.  Ask the spirits of the victims of the RCBC massacre who can now see in the spirit world practically everything,   and there will be a commotion when you mention the name of Mapalo.

On second thought, if you’re apoplectic, don’t ask the victims’ spirits.

eghghghf

Il a gagne 7 GP et fait 18 poles, il a animé et passionné mes dimanches, j’ai toujours en mémoire son casque blanc et sa tête un peu penchée dans les virages, son accent grenoblois, et ses yeux pétillants de malice. Pour moi il est toujours dans la C3, ma Ferrari préférée… mais dans le Renault  il a plus d’une fois donne du fil à retordre à un certain Alain Prost, sans parler de sa passe d’armes légendaire avec un certain Gilles…

Il a aujourd’hui 60 balais et je lui souhaite plein de bonheur … Si chacun de nous lui rendait un peu du bonheur qu’il nous a donne il ne serait pas prêt d’en manquer !

René Arnoux si tu me lis : Chapeau l’artiste !

[dailymotion id=x5y3wd]

El partido se presumía complicado. De hecho fue el FC Barcelona el que comenzó tomando la manija e incluso llegó a encerrar a los nuestros en los primeros minutos. La calidad individual catalana hacía temer un resultado poco favorecedor pero la garra sevillista apareció para imponerse. En el minuto 17 tuvo lugar con inmejorable final la primera ocasión blanca. Un balón a la izquierda recibido por Ríos acabó impulsado por este en el corazón del área. Tras la indecisión de los centrales, Nene cazó el balón y de una bonita volea lo introdujo en las redes. Ahí el partido se abrió para dejar oportunidades en ambas porterías, pero el descanso llegaría con ventaja nervionense.

En la segunda mitad la tónica continuó siendo la misma, aunque los azulgrana iban cada vez más arriba aprovechando el cansancio del rival. Así, en una contra mediada la segunda mitad la tuvo Hugo, pero sólo ante el portero se la entregó en bandeja. Mención especial para la labor del capitán Bernardo, un Javi Navarro en potencia y para el guardameta Juan Martín. Las espectaculares acciones del de Martín de la Jara tuvieron gran parte de culpa de este éxito. Los últimos minutos fueron de auténtico infarto, de hecho el equipo barcelonista llegó a estrellar un balón en el larguero. Aún así la gloria estaba reservada para el Sevilla FC, pues en el último minuto del descuento llegaba la sentencia. Otra contra en esta ocasión del recién entrado Teemu Pukki acabó con un intento de despeje de Vallés que marcó en propia puerta.

El Sevilla FC se hace de esta manera con su cuarta copa del Rey juvenil en su cuarta final, cerrando de la mejor manera posible una temporada de contrastes para el mejor equipo andaluz de todos los tiempos.

Oikein hyvää syntymäpäivää Megumi Murakamille, joka on ex-C-ute ja -H!P jäsen. Megumi täyttää tänään 16 vuotta. Otanjoubi Omedetou! Hyvää syntymäpäivää toivotan myös itselleni, koska olen paras. Olen vain ihminen.. En minkään bändin jäsen... Läppä vaan >o< Tänään täytän 11v... YAY! Otanjoubi Omedetou!

Sabe aquela música do "Nana, nenê, que a Cuca vem pegar" ? Pois é...se pegarmos a letra para analisar meticulosamente, chegaremos à conclusão de que os pais que foram trabalhar querem que sua cria pereça nas mãos da Cuca, que virá pegá-lo quando estiver dormindo em berço esplêndido. Ou seja, o nenê está na merda ("Nana, nenê...que a Cuca vem pegar"...entenderam?).

Outra: "Papai foi na roça, mamãe foi trabalhar" é a mais real e verdadeira prova de que os pais querem a caveira da criança. Sabe por quê? Porque ambos os progenitores sabem da iminente chegada do ser folclórico, sabem que o bebê vai dormir (inclusive, estão orientando-o à isso), e estão saindo de casa, largando-o sozinho, ao relento, uma presa fácil à Cuca. É o mesmo que dizer para um assaltante algo como "Ei! Você aí! Olha para mim! Quantas correntes de ouro aqui comigo! Tenho R$ 1.000,00 na carteira em dinheiro vivo! Vem aqui pegar!".

Bom, era isso. Senti que valia uma pautinha para o Chambinho, afinal, não é porque eu tenho outro blog que deixarei esse morrer (não depois de fazer mais de 100 postagens). Nada a ver esse post, não?

La sua ultima partita risaliva all'11 gennaio. Dopo l'annuncio della malattia, dalle pagine del suo sito ufficiale, e la sfida più dura. Con l'aiuto di tutti coloro che l'hanno supportato e della sua straordianaria forza d'animo, Nenè è tornato sul campo da gioco dopo 2 mesi e mezzo. I 77" della sfida contro i Mavs erano null'altro che garbage time in una vittoria fondamentale per la corsa ai playoff dell'Ovest. Ma il pubblico di Denver gli ha tributato un enorme applauso al suo ritorno in campo.

I Nuggets sono in piena corsa a 3 con Mavs e Warriors per 2 posti nella post-season. Certamente l'ala forte brasiliana potrà essere di grosso aiuto. E se malauguratamente i Nugs non dovessero centrare il biglietto per i playoff, avrebbero comunque una mezza ragione di sorridere.

There’s a storm coming in basketball that has been brewing for quite some time. It originates from something far older than myself (or likely anyone else who will read this), but will take on a completely different level of significance in the coming years.

Simply put, there are three types of players in the NBA: the athletically gifted, the basketball savants, and the players that are both. For all intents and purposes, the players that are both (like Lebron, Kobe, and Chris Paul, among others) are not at issue here, but these individuals are few and far between in the league at large. As such, there are essentially two types of players at issue. Now don’t get me wrong, these are not classifications that are clearly separated; there are plenty of shades of gray here, but the aggregate differences are substantial enough to discuss the topic more generally.

One of the biggest issues with sports in my generation is the “ESPNization” of team sports. Simply put, we are living in a world where sports are entertainment (and there’s no argument from me that this is right), but the difference is that the individuals rewarded in terms of endorsements and many of the individual accolades are players whose play values individual success and highlights more than team success. People who care about this issue all have their own favorite example, with mine being Gerald Green, who can make SportsCenter more frequently than he can make a competent team play, which is part of the reason why he’ll keep bouncing from team to team.

That said, coming from an economics background, there is a more important factor that largely gets ignored, which is the economic incentive of this behavior. Certain people complain incessantly about how the game has changed for the worse, but the reason why is far more important because it is impossible to fix the systemic problems without identifying the cause. Simply put, kids growing up at the same time as me saw that they could make significantly more money by focusing on dunks and no-look passes.

And who could blame them? The Michael Jordan that was immortalized was the one who won dunk contests and stuck out the tongue instead of the top-tier defensive player who passed on Finals-clinching shots to give John Paxson and Steve Kerr easier shots to win those games. This isn’t to say that the athletic kids in this world can’t be savvy basketball players; the problem is that they don’t see the benefit from it at a young age, so they work on what will get them on TV. It’s clear that a portion of this blame goes on the sports outlets that glorify elements of the game that lead to the appalling McDonald’s All-American games that we see now, but the responsibility goes in a few other directions as well. We consistently see team owners rewards the players who focus on these elements of the game with disproportionately large contracts (see: Martin, Kenyon) and GM’s overdrafting these kids.

All of these sources tell part of the story, and another component is the NBA itself. No league has been more culpable in the changes their league has undertaken than David Stern and his minions. For the last five years, they consistently have ignored the teams that play excellent team basketball in the games and teams that get coverage on the outlets. It is simply unforgivable to have a group of individuals like the Miami Heat get multiple prime time games in the same week when teams like the Utah Jazz get largely ignored in terms of meaningful coverage. What is even more astounding is that good team basketball is often even more fan-friendly than the no-defense teams, but the networks have never cared enough to emphasize these elements of the game that make it so beautiful, whether that be through highlight packages or hiring announcers who actually know how team basketball works, which is part of what makes Jeff Van Gundy such a phenomenal announcer. Furthermore, guys like Chris Paul and Dwight Howard could have been household names in the league at least a year ago, but their games never get national coverage so those without NBA have to just listen to pundits talk about them when they’re not writing MVP articles ignoring Chris Paul completely (I’m looking at YOU Adande!).

One of the most interesting case studies of this era of basketball is Vince Carter. By all accounts, he came into the league as one of the most physically gifted players in the history of the NBA, with his dunk contest domination in Oakland serving as one of the most dramatic examples of this. The other side of the coin for his legacy is his inconsistent effort and blatant tanking at the end of his time in Toronto. Both of these arguments are compelling, but what makes him a great case study is that he actually is an incredibly savvy basketball player who is an underrated passer and defender for his position. That said, he’s one of those guys who I’ll always wonder how much better he could have been, which is a hallmark of the 90’s and beyond. It is unquestionable that the league is much more athletic than it has ever been dispite dilution by overexpansion, but that does not mean it is “better”.

Why this is more relevant than ever is because of the incoming crop of kids into the college and NBA ranks. There are the Tyrus Thomas-esque physical freaks like Michael Beasley, the savants like Kevin Love, and a smattering of players who have both like Derrick Rose and Jrue Holliday. What makes now different is that the lines of separation seem much stronger than previously. Take Kevin Love and DeAndre Jordan as examples. Deandre Jordan is a fascinating talent with the size and athleticism that makes every scout drool and dream of his potential, thus rocketing his stock, while a guy like Kevin Love languishes lower on boards because he is perceived as a lower-upside guy because of his sub-par basketball body. I’m not knocking DeAndre Jordan in any way, but when you’re talking about return on an investment, there is simply no contest. Love’s skills will be his skills in the pros, and what’s astonishing is how unique they are. I’ve seen him play in person numerous times and on TV a ton as well, and he is simply one of the best passers I’ve ever seen regardless of height. However, we’ve learned over the years that passing isn’t all that’s involved in that process; a player needs to WANT to pass the ball and get others involved. OJ Mayo is a phenomenal talent, but I’m concerned that his confidence on the offensive end will lead to more ball-domination than he should have, though he could be nasty if he could play PG with a swingman who handles the ball well and he respects as a form of a mentor for the formative years.

But back to DeAndre Jordan. While Love is putting up productive minutes (probably in a backup role as the first big off the bench), Jordan will be “learning how to play”, much like Jermaine O’Neal before him. The problem is that the drafting team will be lucky if they have any sense of where he’ll be long-term by the time he finishes his rookie contract, typically forcing them to either overpay him to roll the dice (like Nene) or let him go (Darko). As such, the only benefit they’ll likely reap is the chance to have Bird rights if he breaks out or it looks like he will. As someone who’s a fan of the team who drafted Patrick O’Bryant directly after Rudy Gay, I know how this process can be.

I’ll close this with a little definition.
The Eric Weddle Corollary: Players who do not have the “sexiness” as draft prospects (typically because of physical attributes) but just love to play the game and produce regardless.


(note: Eric Weddle was a defensive back for the Utah football team who had no draft hype originally but has already become a starter in his second year in the NFL):

Some people like Bill Simmons talk about the undersized PF’s like Paul Millsap and Carl Landry doing well in the NBA right now because of the Phoenix influence and the changing body type of the NBA Power Forward, and he’s partially right. The other piece of the puzzle is that the guys who are good enough to get noticed like that usually have these other attributes which makes them significantly more likely to succeed in the pros. Think about Paul Millsap for a second. The guy has known for four years exactly what his role on the court is and relishes it. There’s no sales job necessary to have him do the yeoman’s work and he knows that with rebounding as his calling card he’ll be able to stay in the league for eons.

There are Eric Weddle players at every position in the league and a multitude of them in college basketball right now. Over the next couple weeks I’m going to try and compile them (as I have for my own personal reference the past few) so you can follow their progress as we move forward.

—¿Sabes la historia del hotel donde estamos parando? —pregunto el padre al hijo.
—No, ¿me la contas? —respondió el niño de tan solo 14 añitos.
Estaban sentados en el hall del edificio, haciendo tiempo vaya uno a saber por que. El nene estaba agarrado de su mano, y el padre se sentó frente a el, mirándolo a los ojos mientras le contaba la historia. Observar a ese nene escuchando ese relato era increíble, estaba como fascinado, lo miraba y se sorprendía a cada instante, era buen cuentista ese hombre. No paraba de gesticular, movía las manos, cambiaba la voz, un padre poco usual, se podía ver a leguas que amaba a su hijo.
—A este edificio lo construyó el abuelo, por eso todos los años venimos acá. El abuelo el día que inauguró el hotel, en medio de la ceremonia, me llevo a la terraza. Yo tendría aproximadamente 14 años –el nene, abrió grande sus ojos y suspiro —Como yo —Claro —Continuo el padre —Como vos, el me comento que el mejor horario para ver las estrellas en la costa, en esta misma terraza es a las 11 de la noche, esta noche te contaré lo que el abuelo me contó. Las verdades que contienen las estrellas. Subiremos a la terraza a las 11 de la noche y te contare unos secretos que no podes contárselos a nadie más que a tu futuro hijo. Es algo asombroso, sin dudas te va a encantar. —Dijo el padre.
De pronto entro una mujer Rubia, era la mamá.
—Mamá, papá me va a llevar a la terraza a las 11 de la noche, por que dice que las estrellas hablan —dijo el nene entusiasmado.
La madre le guiño el ojo al padre, y con total complicidad, respondió;
—El gran secreto del abuelo, tu papá me contó que su padre le contó unos secretos, unas verdades que dicen las estrellas, es verdad hijo. —respondió la madre.
—¿Entonces vos sabes el secreto? —Pregunto el nene.
—No, yo sé que el abuelo se lo contó a tu padre, por algo es un secreto, tu papá jamás me lo contó. No se que le dijo el padre de él esa noche. —Sonrió y le dio un beso al padre del nene.
—Ah, es verdad, los secretos no se cuentan. —dijo el nene y corrió hacia el ascensor.
—Así es Adrián, los secretos, son secretos —dijo el padre.
Caminando para el ascensor, la madre abrazo al padre y ambos se miraron, creo que percibí los latidos de sus corazones, agitados, con golpes fuertes, enormes en felicidad.
—Estoy orgullosa de vos —le dijo la madre al padre.
—Te amo, y gracias por ser la madre mas hermosa que existe sobre la faz de la tierra. Sos mi estrella. —Respondió el padre.
—Adrián, deja de apretar el botón, que lo vas a romper, ya esta, ya lo llamaste —dijo la madre, mientras el nene no dejaba de apretar el botón.
—Tarda, ma, quiero ir a la terraza —rezongó el nene.
—No, Adrián, primero tenemos que comer, es temprano, a las 11 de la noche yo te prometo que te llevo. —respondió el padre.
—Bueno, pero... —volvió a protestar el pequeño.
—Pero nada, Adri, dale subí que ya vino el ascensor.
Esa noche, habrá sido la comida más rápida que comió en su vida. Sus padres no paraban de decirle que mastique y que no trague el pedazo completo, el nene comía rápido, no le importaba el pedazo, y mucho menos masticar.
—Adrián, fíjate en el reloj, decime la hora. —pregunto el padre, sabiendo que ya eran las 11 de la noche.
—¡¡Las onceeeeeeeeee!! —grito el nene del comedor.
—Bueno, mi amor, nosotros subimos a la terraza, volvemos en un ratito. —dijo el padre.
—¿Qué, mamá no viene? —pregunto el nene.
—No, mami se queda, por que esta charla es de hombre a hombre —respondió el padre, sabiendo que eso lo haría sentir mejor.
—Bueno, má, ya vuelvo, voy con papi. —dijo el nene, agarrado de la mano de su padre, listo para el desafió.
—Bueno vayan, cuando vuelvan hay sorpresa de postre. —dijo la madre mostrando su hermosa sonrisa, también estaba contenta.
En el pasillo que conduce al ascensor, el nene no dejaba de preguntar, que le anticipe algo. Subieron al ascensor y nuevamente el nene no cesaba de preguntar.
—Bueno, llegamos —murmuro el padre.

—¡Siiii! —dijo el nene, jamás había subido a la terraza, ni sabía que era.
—Para, papá —dijo el nene —¿Qué es una terraza? —pregunto.
—Una terraza, es el ultimo piso del edificio, de este lugar se pueden ver las estrellas mas cerca, pero esta terraza no es igual a todas, es mágica.
Vamos, veni, dame la mano, acostémonos en el piso. Y ambos sin soltarse las manos se acostaron boca arriba en el piso.
—Ves esa estrella —Y el padre señalo al tumulto de estrellas.
—Sí, pa, hay un montón de estrellas.
—No, esa, la amarilla, que titila, ves que esta titilando, que parece que prende y apaga —explico el padre, sabiendo que la gran mayoría de estrellas, titilan, parece que fuesen apagarse, pero no es así, solo es una ilusión óptica.
—Sí, ahí la vi, ¿Qué tiene? —Pregunto el nene apresurado.
—Bueno esa me esta hablando en este momento —dijo el padre.
—Ah, ¿Por qué a mi no me hablan? —dijo el nene con los ojos llenos de lagrimas.
—Por que vos tenes que ser papá, a tu hijo le vas a poder contar lo que dicen las estrellas. —balbuceo el padre, acariciando su hombro.
—Ah, entonces falta mucho para que me hablen, esto es re trucho —dijo el nene enfadado.
—Pero... —hizo una pausa— no, no, seguro no te interesa, bajemos a comer el postre. —dijo el padre, sabiendo que el nene preguntaría.
—¿Pero que, pa? —pregunto el nene.
—Yo te puedo decir lo que me esta diciendo la estrella. Como lo hizo el abuelo conmigo, y vos tenes que guardar el secreto. Y cuando seas papá se lo dirás a tu hijo. —dijo el padre consintiendo al hijo.
—Bueno, dale, contame, contame —dijo el nene nuevamente entusiasmado.
—Esa estrella, me dice que vos nunca tenes que fumar, jamás tenes que tocar un cigarrillo —el padre dijo eso y el nene se quedo mirándolo.
—¿Entendiste? —pregunto el padre.
—Si, que no tengo que fumar. —respondió el hijo.
—Bien, bueno ves aquella —y señalo una azul clarita —Esa me dice que vos nunca tenes que emborracharte hasta quedar tirado en la calle. Vas a poder tomar Cervezas, Vinos y esas cosas que toma papá, cuando seas mas grande. Cuando empieces a tomar con tus amigos, jamás tenes que emborracharte. Tenes que tomar con moderación.
—¿Entendiste? —pregunto el padre, tratando de ser lo más claro posible.
—Sí, que no tengo que ser borracho.
—Muy bien, bueno ahora mira allá, esa que esta sola, ¿la ves? —pregunto el padre, mientras señalaba una estrella color blanca, apartada de todas.
—Si, esa que esta solita ahí. —dijo el nene.
—Claro, ¡Que buena vista campeón!, bueno, esa estrella es la más sincera de todas. Esa me dice la verdad absoluta, dice que algún día la vas a conocer...
—¿A quien, a la estrella, pa? —curioseo el nene.
—Sí, a la estrella. —dijo el padre.
—Pa, pero si esta re lejos, ¿Cómo la voy a conocer?, ¿Qué va a bajar en forma de estrella?, ¿Cómo son las estrellas, pa?, ¿Cómo la voy a reconocer, hablan papi?, ¿Son buenas?, ¿Por qué están tan lejos? —el nene era una maquina de crear preguntas, que el padre con total naturalidad siempre obtenía respuestas.
—Sí hijo, son buenas, están lejos por que ellas tienen que hablar con otros padres, así sus hijos aprenden estos secretos que yo te conté hoy.
Esta estrella es diferente, esa no es una estrella, aunque así lo parezca, en la vida, hay muchas cosas que parecen ser algo que en realidad no lo son.
Cuando seas mas grande, como papá, descubrirás a tu estrella. Ella es la que bajara y en algún momento de tu vida la encontraras. No me dijo cuando, ni en donde te va a esperar. Pero no será en forma de estrella. Sino en forma de mujer. Conocerás muchas mujeres cuando seas mas grande, pero solo una será tu estrella, te vas a dar cuenta solito. Sin ayuda de nadie.
—Y ahora vamos, que mamá nos esta esperando. —Dijo el padre, mientras se ponía de pie. El nene en el suelo, pregunto su ultima duda.
—¿Pa, tu estrella es mamá? —Termino de decir eso y el padre, comprendió que su hijo había entendió y esa satisfacción, hizo que derramara una lagrima.
—Sí, mi estrella es tu mamá.

Una brisa despeino a los dos y ambos volvieron hacia la puerta que separa, la magia, el amor y la fantasía de un padre que volvió a ser niño, con su hijo.

                  Nu spun ca nu meritau ei (Bindo, all right) sa fie la Atena. Au fost singurii din concurs care au reusit sa ma faca sa ascult intreaga melodie cap-coada fara sa-mi bag capul intr-o galeata de gheata (exceptie aici fac Iorga cu Pacifica, la ei nu am cum sa ma pronunt)!

                  Dar nene, de ce nu ai votat pt ei de pe toate telefoanele cunoscutilor, vecinilor, dusmanilor daca acuma, dupa bineinteles, ii sustii asa de tare?!? (NB: prin "nene" a se citi si identifica toti acei ce au form-uit la greu dupa) 

                           BTW : Biondo veni, vidi, vici!   

¿De reproches tas cansado Pajarón?
Volveté al nido, todavía sos pichón.
Si se te caían los mocos y masticabas polvo,
Mírame, piscuí, somo’ la misma sangre.

¿De matón te la das pebete?
Jugá con autitos de fricción,
si te da la pulenta pa’ moverlo hacia atrás.
Mírate, piscuí, usas mi ropa.

¿De pillo te la das guachín?
Sí con esas llantas no asustas a nadie.
¿Ganas carreras con esas o ya no jugas a eso?
¡Eh! Guacho, baja eso que somo’ del palo.

¿De perdonavidas te la das ahora?
¿Sos un héroe?
Ni el guasón hacia eso,
¿Sabes quien es el guasón, purrete?.

Mira que los abuelos no se tocan,
Mira que el barrio no se ensucia,
Mira que nadie es inmortal,
Mira que si vos sos loco, acá somo’ loco y medio.

¿De fanfarrón te la das ahora?
¿Qué no tenes para comer cara sucia?
Sí a veces no comíamos nosotros,
Acaso alimentamos a un futuro León.

¡Che mocosito! es hora de la lechita.
¡Che mocosito! no te vayas de mambo.
¡Che mocosito! mira que la gente se esta enojando.
¡Che mocosito! te pueden hacer mal.

¡Che mocosito! pensa en el basural de la esquina.
¡Che mocosito! la yuta se esta cansando.
¡Che mocosito! mira que tu sangre vale más que la mía.
¡Che mocosito!... yo te avise.

A veces me cuesta creer como nenes de 9 a 15 años, salen a matar su vida. Y aun peor cuando se la quitan a otro. Cuesta entender su forma de pensar, no hay soluciones, nadie mueve un pelo, hasta que nos tocan un ser querido.

¿Qué podemos hacer cuando cuesta tanto aprender?.
¿Qué esta bien y que esta mal?.
¿Hasta cuando?.
¿Cuánto más?

I didn't hear about it until this morning, but apparently Carmelo Anthony and Allen Iverson spent the weekend lobbying for a deal that would bring Artest to the Nuggets. The coaches, as far as I can tell, are opposed to the Artest deal if it means giving up Kleiza. The front office is split on the issue.

I think the opinion of the coaching staff should have more weight than the opinion of the players. I also think that George Karl showed a new and effective strategy for upping the defensive intensity of this team before the Celtics win -- announcing which Nuggets stars were in charge of guarding which Celtics stars. That's good, insightful coaching right there, and more of that will help this team in a way Ron Artest (and the loss of Kleiza) can't.

To be real honest with you (uh oh, I'm picking up a Scott Hastings-ism right there -- have you noticed that he says that all the time?), Melo and AI need to STFU about trades and who they want to see on this team. Take that energy and focus it on being the leaders of this team, hyping up the other guys, working on your free throws, and playing some freaking defense. Otherwise, we might just have to wait a few years until Kleiza takes over -- because he's the one who seems to have the real drive, dedication, and passion to lead a team in a way that nobody is leading the Nuggets right now.

As the trade deadline approaches (three hours left) I'll update as soon as I hear anything. Until then, I'll do all I can to send "Kleiza yes! Artest no!" vibes to the Pepsi Center.