Unfortunately, I’m not a professional NBA blogger yet. No, no. This nonsense is pure amateur hour. In my actual career, I’m a mailman. A letter carrier. A master of the postal arts. Il postino.
It’s not the best job, but I make it much better. I steal. A lot. I’d say that out of any given ten letters I pick up, I thieve seven or eight. And ya know who writes a ton of letters? NBA players. I was shocked too. But I’m talking, like, a ton. In fact, the only thing they mail more than letters are postcards. Yup. Postcards. They send em to everyone. They send them to each other. They send them to their coaches. People send postcards to them. And sometimes they even send postcards to themselves.
In what is clearly the best thing to happen to the Indiana Pacers franchise since they punched all those fans in in the face that one night, the team decided to grow mustaches for last night’s game against Houston.
Naturally, on the strength of those mustaches, they won.
Below are the highlights. (Inspired by Indy Cornrows)
“To be honest with you, that’s why you don’t have concealed weapons, because I’d have shot him at that point,” D’Antoni said wryly. “I do like his feistiness, but he just needs to channel it in the right way. And he knows that.”
What the mustachioed man is talking about is Nate Robinson. More specifically, he’s talking about the technical foul Nate picked up after jumping off the bench to talk shit to Amare, who was fresh off a David Lee facial. Amare appears to pay little mind to the little man and is in fact dismissive, something that came to a great surprise to me when remembering the violent fate STAT suffered at the hands of the last fun-size point guard he encountered.
My apologies to the entire Both Teamsters Union for the extended, unannounced lack of production around here of late. I feel like Luol Deng. Unfortunately, life, the job that pays me and the classes that I pay for have been calling. But we should be back on track going forward for the most part.
Fortunately, Amare can hopefully deflect criticism away from me today with his even more reprehensible behavior (first video…via Slam). Seriously, flopping is a cancer, and although this between-whistle stuff isn’t nearly as damaging to the sport as the signature, Argentinian-imported, nonsense “charges” of dudes like Nocioni and Varejao, it’s still bothersome.
Worse still, he pulled a similarly Buster Keatonesque routine against the Pacers during his career night back in early November after a vicious shove by the 12-year-old Travis Diener (second video).
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