SLAM 102

This is turning rather rapidly into a Gilbert Arenas fanblog of sorts, and guaranteed that it will be shifted away from him rapdily once the seazon starts (6 days?!), but damn if this tat on the cover of SLAM 102 isn't holding shit down in a major way:
You can head on over to FreeDarko to pick up your copy of the new FD shirt. "Es La Pata Del Diablo" means literally "He is the leg of the Devil," but it translates more as one who likes to play pranks. So, there's that.

Gillyweed

First, peep Gilberts' oxygen tent and then take a gander at a blog I can only assume is dedicated to him. There is so much to say about the man who has established himself and reigns as among the lig's most enigmatic, so Ima try to lay some of it down.Gilbert has long been a hero to those fine folks over at FreeDarko, and for good reason. He is among the most interesting and complex ever to play the game.

For example: he was arrested this summer for standing beside his teammate as he was being charged with disorderly conduct. The twist: it was in the midst of a crowded Miami street.



Gilbert seems unregulated by the laws that normally permeate the game of basketball. When others zig he zags. Case in point: in the first round last year the Wizrds were inbounding with a chance to send the game to overtime. He took the ball midway between the three point line and half court and shot it.

Normally that is a moment reserved for the NBA player one might classify as slightly retarded. But with Gilly, it was a simple fact that he would take that shot. Whether or not it went in was semi-irrelevant. By even attempting such a ridiculous J, Gilbert proved that he is once again on a plane not higher than any, but seperated from all.

The shot did go in. Of course it did; what else can one expect out of Gilly?



His choice of literature (Harry Potter) reflects the fantastical world he lives in. The world where he can cover his shoes with Scotch tape. The world where it's perfectly acceptable for a man who depends on his ankles for life can wear low-top shoes and have no adverse consequences. It is a world all his own.

I've got nothing to say

Now is the dead zone.

Nothing of note happens save the theoretical. Big ups to Free Darko to find rage in the tiniest of things (who knew Jared Jeffries was so polarizing?)

That being said, its time to talk about my sleeper: the Orlando Magic.

Led by Horseboy, the Magic are poised to wrest the Eastern crown from the weakening Heat and suddenly beyond-mortal Pistons. They have the horses--double figuratively--and if JJ Reddick heals up in time to become a decent pro, he could stretch the defense enough for Horseboy to do his damage down low.

An unheralded addition to their lineup is the Great White Mystery of Darko Milicic. Say what you want about him, but he has not had the depths of potential even remotely plumbed. Burying him on the Detroit bench was a bad move, but swapping him for Kelvin Cato was a worse one, especially now that Detroit desperately needs someone of his stature to occupy the middle now that Afroman has departed for the windy city.

(Aside: Is it possible that B-Walls will be picked up by the wind due to the drag created by his 'fro?)
Now is the first year when Grant Hill's health has not determined their contender status. Even if he contracts more knee and ankle disease, Hedo Turkoglu is another defense stretching solution.

Jameer Nelson is one of the best cheap players in the league. Unspectacular on offense, but a steady hand at the point and on defense, Jameer is the not the type of player to lead a team to the promised land. He is, however, exactly the type of player not to lead them away from it.

The Magic are a team in no need of a powerful personality outside of Horseboy, who may or may not harness his skills in time to allow his teammates to jump on his back. And besides, he may not even have to--if Darko shows up as the Dirko we thought him to be way back when Horseboy's load will be dramatically reduced.

The Week(s) the Earth Stood Still

Marquis: Gone.
J.R. Smith: Gone.
Ben Wallace: A Bull.
Tyson Chandler and Peja Stojakovic: Hornets.

Simmons dropped a vintage performance today, mad love for this man's inclusion:

It's getting to be that he is perhaps the only soldier left in this increasingly maddening war.

The trades and signings have been nothing if not baffling. The Bulls sign a fading Ben Wallace, then flip his equally skilled, newly found teammate to the Hornets for a FreeDarko soldier and a washed-up vet with an $8 milly contract.

The Mavericks, no doubt flush with the quality minutes Keith Van Horn supplied them in the NBA Finals (Note: Jokes) swapped Marquis Daniels for AUSTIN MOTHERFUCKING CROSHERE.

Don't get it twisted; Croshere is a wonderful person I'm sure, but how many times does one of the premier young slashing guards in the Lig come knocking on your door, only to be sent to languish in the midst of cattle and sheep while you revel in the expiringness of his replacement's contract?

Yes, maybe I am a little bitter the Lakers didn't trade for him. So, what?

Here's hoping the Hornets are launched into an ecstasy of success, led by Chris Paul and Tyson Chandler. I only wish JR was there to see it.