Friday night, I got blue sweats and a blue sweatshirt on, the weather is terrible, the Blazers are playing the busted ass Lakers: there is only one solution to this, and it is one of my patented WordVom recaps, where I watch the game and just write whatever.
Can I just say, Friday night, Blazer game, that is horse shit, man. I should be out with a friend or a lover or something tonight. There are some DECENT restaurants in Vancouver, WA, man. Thai Orchid, for instance, they have those good veggie sushi rolls. I could be eating them, but I’m here, with the Blazers, instead.
MARK JACKSON! MAAAARRRKKKKK!
The Blazer clinched the Division before the game started. Or, I suppose, the Thunder let the air out of their division chances.
Aldridge misses and early three pointer. He isn’t making enough three pointers. Are any of us, really? What are our personal standards, and how are we achieving those dreams? Are we, even? Do we deserve to? Is the standard of deserve completely arbtrary? Is the only thing we truly “Deserve” death?
Easter is coming up. I think I will try to catch the Pope’s easter mass when I get back from work at around midnight. I am not a catholic, but you know, you should always seek the BEST of any-thing, and you gotta imagine, the Pope on Easter, that’s some real-shit. Lillard hits three three early. God bless him. I hope on easter, the Pop takes a minute to talk about “The young man who wears 0” and thank him for all he has done for the church and for humanity.
Ugh, they let Ryan Kelly dunk. The DUKE Ryan Kelly. Disgusting. I have a taste in my mouth, and it’s bad. It’s like toilet water, like Coach K’s favorite evening beverage. YOu read that right, Coach K drinks toilet water at night, after everyone has used the toilet. If he has something to say about it, he should sue me. He will see the fucking evidence I have. THe whole world will, in a civil court. He is a gross man, who drinks toilet water.
Alrdidge misses a corner three. The Pope shakes his head. He needs to make those shots, says the pope to his gathered cronies. “Yes, yes, Mr. Pope,” they reply, “absolutely. You know the deepest secrets of ball, Mr. Pope.”
Booze-Man misses a midrange shot. I hope the Blazers sign him next year, so we can hang out. He seems like a fun guy, and I think we have a lot in common. For instence: we both have intimate knowledge of Coach K’s “Toilet Proclivvys” Booze-man misses a paint pushy hook.
I heard “Clarkson” as “Marxon.” Jordan Clarkson is the people’s player! Once I tried to look and see if there was a blacklisted baseball player. I couldn’t find one, and I was very disappointed. That’s a whole goddamn pitch, right there. I suppose the gentleman who invted the high-five was probably blacklisted for being a homosexual. God, the world was once terrible and is not much better now.
Lillard outscored the Lakers in the first quarter. I am not COMPLETELY sure that I should be watching this game.
CJ isolates and hits a midrange shot. Cool, I guess? I mean, it’s not a GOOD play, but it is a play and it did go in. The Blazers are beating the Lakers by a lot of points. Hopefull they don’t get comebacked again. They probably won’t the Lakers are extremely bad. The Lakers are not a very good team. Neither am I. I am letting everyone else on my team down every day.
Dave Pasch feels like this is the least energetic he has seen the Staples Center. I like it, it’s listless. Every arena should be like this. Getting excited about sports, or anything, is gauche.
Instead of grabbing a rebound Meyers shoves it into the floor and it bounces in the air and Lopez grabs it. Is it just trying to turn boards into team rebounds? He doesn’t think ANYONE should get credit for rebounds, DAMNIT!
This game is a gutter. I woudn’t be surprised if the lakers sent in a sewer croc or a giant, wet teddy bear or like three hundred rats.
Did you guys see that Nancy Sinatra said that Ronan Farrow isn’t Frank’s son? Has she seen that dude!?
I mean, COME ON. Even the Pope is like “Uhh yeah, that’s Frank’s seed, clearly. I am the Pope, I ain’t lyin!” I also suspect he could play for the Lakers at this point. A censored version of “BOOM BITCH GET OUT THE WAY” in the Staples Center. C’mon, I brought my kid to this game, and to see the Pope, who is also at the game.
What I have eaten today: A banana, and indian buffet. I am like 50/50 on eating dinner. I feel a little like I am going to starve if I keep eating this game, because it is fallow. The lakes are almost certainly not going to crack forty points. Pasch just said “Happy Birthday, Big guy” to Mac Jackson and he has to be like “BIG GUY!? I’m not that tall and I am CERTAINLY Not Fat! Dave, you are taking some liberties! I expect you to apologize on air in the next segment.”
The Blazers have shot two free throws in the half. They are infamously bad at drawing fouls, but I am inclined to blame it on the Lakers looking to keep their PERs free of fouljunk.
Lead goes from 25 to 16. The Blazers need to uh, oh I don’t care. At this point, I just want what’s best for everyone in the game. Jordan Clarkson should play well, make a career for himself. I hope he does well.
During halftime I watched this Chuck Berry video. I THINK this is him playing with randos, because he was too cheap to hire a real band in those days. One of these randos can kind of shred, but the rhythm section is tremendously slapdash. He plays Johnny B. Goode for like ten minutes, and the game is starting again.
Afflalo got fouled. I have decided to make some ravioli. Mark Jackson is singing the praises of Arron, because he is an isolation player and Mark Jackson likes postup mismatches. If I knew when I was going to die, would I live a different life?
Robin got dunked on. He sacrificed himself for a shot at glory, and it crumbled in his hands, like sand. Robin collapses to the wood and weeps for what he lost. For what his team lost. For what everyone lost.
I don’t like this game because the Blazers aren’t absolutely whooping the Lakers like I wish they would. I wish something extraordinary would happen in one of these games. I suppose the fight was really cool, and there were some buzzer beaters at year’s beginning. But for the last, like, three months, these things have been draaaaaaging their hands down the street and falling asleep for five minutes and waking up and yelling “Oh my god, was there a race going on!?” Then waking up and shuffling to a finish line, win or loss be damned. Lakers pull into 13th street.
Jordan Clarkson is killing the Blazers. Majick Clarkson. If he related to Joey? Are all of us? Is Joey Crawford all of our anger, out spite, manifest in the world, congealed together, and formed into an NBA Referee?
CJ is having a great game. That’s good. I have long thought that he was juuuust short of being an NBA player, but he has been playing well lately. Maybe he will keep playing well. Maybe he won’t. Maybe I will find love, a person to share warmth with, maybe I won’t. Life is so very hard to predict. All I can hope for is CJ to be sustainably good and a love to come my way and melt my cold outsides and reveal the real person, the fiery soul underneath.
Mark Jackson points out that the Lakers are playing a shit ton of music. So do the Blazers, though, and the people in that stadium scream their faces off. I wish the Blazers had an organ. I like organs. They could play Water Music during games.
The Blazers have pulled away. Took long enough.