Losing sucks. For a long, long time, we had our share of it in New England. But then 2001 came to pass, and with it the first championship for our beloved Patriots, and things around here changed. The Pats rang up three titles by ’04, the Sox took over with two by ’07, even the C’s got in on the act with a ring in the ’07-’08 season. What I’m saying to LeBron James is that we, as a region, know exactly what he’s going through. What I’m also saying is that we, as a region, don’t give a rat’s ass.
Not only are we devoid of compassion for Mr. James’ plight, we revel in it. We love watching him brick free throws. We smile when he passes to Mike Miller, who proceeds to clunk a wide-open straightaway three that would have tied the game. We high-five each other when Delonte West busts his kids in Gloria James’ face. Too soon?
Now, I am certainly not comparing the Celtics’ perfect regular season record against the Heat this year to any kind of playoff success. I don’t have to do that. LeBron has yet to defeat the Green in a series that sends somebody home. And until he does, I’m going to assume that he can’t. But do I derive a supreme satisfaction from witnessing his failure? I do indeed. And if that makes me petty, well…at least my mom didn’t get banged by my VD-ridden teammate.
Logan Mankins got franchised by the Patriots today. Poor guy is set to make a touch over ten million this year (if there is a this year) barring the creation of a new contract. Best case scenario? Mankins and the Pats cut the crap and work something out (I’ve got those odds at about 5% and falling). Worst case scenario? Mankins holds out again, plays the last handful of games and the Pats owe him a prorated salary. I don’t think Mr. Kraft should mortgage the future on the guy, but he definitely deserves to get paid like the best guard in the league, which he is.
I see that Dice K and Lackey have shown up in Fort Myers sporting some new waistlines. Remember guys, the key to success as a major league pitcher is keeping your ERA below your waist size after you move the decimal point over. Guess that explains Beckett’s size 58 waist last year.
Tiger Woods got in some hot water
with his wife with Dubai Desert Classic tournament director Mike Stewart for spitting on the green over the weekend. Are we really surprised at this, given that the man has horked a big one all over his family, his image, and his golf game in a little over a year’s time? Or are we more surprised that he didn’t beg the green to spit back in his mouth, and then he’ll spit in the sandtrap’s mouth, and then the sandtrap will spit on Jon Daly, and so on and so on until eventually somebody posts about it on their porn site and Elin ends up with half of everything?
In other news…
-Uncle C.C. has left the door open to opting out of his contract with the Yankees after the ’11 season. Rumors that Sabathia’s stomach is what’s preventing the door from closing remain unsubstantiated.
-Hank Steinbrenner feels the Sox “have a lot to prove after last year,” which means a ton coming from Captain Daddy Issues himself. But I’m pretty sure the only thing Boston needs to prove in order to win the AL East this year is that they can stay off the DL. Sorry Hank, but having “the best bullpen in baseball” only becomes effective when your starters don’t put you in a five-run hole.
-An MRI on the Truth’s aching left foot came back negative and Pierce has been cleared to play Wednesday against the Nets. Breathe easily, Garden wheelchair operators. And there’s more positive news on the Celtic injury front: Mr. West (broken wrist) should be ready to go on Wednesday as well. You know what that means, Gloria. You too, Andrei Kirilenko…