SHOOT ME IN THE FACE: THE JAMES TAYLOR BUZZKILL

Thursday night. Game One of the NBA Finals. I'm on fire. I got two of six beers already down the hatch, a bowl of kraut and sausage in front of me. I'm so ready I'm not even sitting on the couch. I'm more like hovering over the it. I watch about an hour and a half of pre-game discussions. I'm ready for the matchups. Stephen Smith keeps talking about Kobe. I keep talking up Paul Pierce to myself. I'm walking around the house shadowboxing, saying, "What! What!" It's customary.



About five minutes until tip-off, I'm riding a high. I'm thinking about all of those great Celtics teams that never made it to this point. I remember watching Reggie Lewis on Sunday afternooons thinking that "this would be the year" for him to finally break through to the finals. I hit this really reflective moment. Not over sentimental, but definitely dizzying. The Garden's lights go dark, the Celtics emblem lights up center court. "And now to sing the National Anthem, James Taylor."
Dude's sense of timing is just incredible. I swear he's on a shortlist of poor-ass musicians who love sports and are willing to sing publicly in exchange for tickets to high-priced sporting events. Dude's a sucka. If he's not showing up at Red Sox games with his "just an old man with a guitar" routine, he's meddling in Celtics games. There's not even room for his sappy old ass at a Celtics game. Everyone's amped up, punching each other in the chest, the crowd's absolutely goin' off and then, "Let's pause for James Taylor to pass." The ovation afterwards was like, "Damn. Okay, until then I was really enjoying myself tonight." James Taylor is sad and boring like the pool of contents settled in the bottom of a used bedpan. I hate him with unrivaled hate. If you'll remember, last time I posted about James Taylor, it was an historical rant that left such a deep imprint on this nation that if you search it on Google, it pops up at the top. And, no, it's not because I'm the only one that hates him. Check out the link below. Oddly enough, in that same post I praised the current Celtics team. It was meant to happen to me. Maybe James Taylor reads the blog. Maybe he really is out to get me.
http://therootdown.blogspot.com/2007/08/im-not-american-because-i-absolutely.html


In all seriousness, I think James Taylor is an evil person. We must keep away from any broadcasted event because it serves as an opportunity for him to spread his evil perspectives of the world. The very root of him is rotten and cancerous and I won't stand for this. Henry should've told him something at this appearance at the Sox/Indians series from last year.

Man, it's early. I've been up since 4:30 this morning and, yep, it's a Saturday morning. How awesome. Paul was lights out on Thursday night. Yeah, I don't know how bad that injury was or even if there was an injury at all. It could've been the "bloody sock" of the series, but even without the distraction, the dude came up huge. There's little denying that.
I love how Kobe just couldn't stand giving the Celtics defense credit claiming that he just kept missing easy shots or "bunnies" as I believe he said. Yeah, the tape would reveal something quite different. Whatever. Dude's a stud, I know, but he's also a prick. That might be the difference between him and Paul Pierce. Oh, and Paul plays much tighter defense. And he's won a game in the Finals.

In case you missed it, Coco dodged a punch on Thursday night. It looked like this.

After dodging that punch and missing one of his own, he was pounced by the Devil Ray team and then beatdown like Rodney King. Afterwards, he called them out by saying they were "scratching and pulling hair like little girls." Yeah, I gotta feeling this one ain't over.

Meet Riley Wyrick. Dude, he's like the deer whisperer. How does he keep it that still? Oh wait, I think it's dead.
I'm kicking off my Saturday by mowing the yard. I'm thinking about doing it at 6:30 to piss off my neighbors. See what kinda rise I can get out of them. I can do it because I roll with these dudes.