You all wish you were as cool as Han Solo, PI

Fine I'll do it.

My brother knows how much I love lists.  I mostly love disagreeing with them, but I do love them.  He told me about a website that rates the greatest albums of all time based upon how they are ranked in other lists.  I decided to get in on this because I didn't like that some albums were underappreciated or unappreciated all together.

These lists are so hard to make.  I do know that I love every song on Radiohead's The Bends, but does that really make it the best album of all time?  I don't know the answer to that.  I just know what I like.

You should be able to see my list here:  My list.

You probably won't like what you see, but that's the beauty of the exercise.  Enjoy.

I am a Witness, for a lot of Bad Basketball with LeBron James

I love the NBA…usually.  LeBron James is the most talented basketball player alive.  The NBA playoffs have been incredibly entertaining this year.  All that being said, the end of game 4 of the Eastern Conference Finals between the Cleveland Cavaliers and the Orlando Magic showed why so many people love to hate on the NBA.  The great basketball that was played, at times by both teams, was overshadowed by the events of the final minutes and ultimately the final seconds of regulation.

Watching the Cavaliers offense disintegrate into the LeBron James one-on-one show during the last few minutes of regulation could not have been more frustrating.  If one of LeBron’s teammates actually touched the ball on the offensive end during the last few minutes of the game, I certainly didn’t see it.  The Cavs apparently hired a new assistant coach to essentially act as their offensive coordinator.  But what’s the point of having an offense at all if it can’t get you a basket when you need it?  Even Mo Williams admitted that there was no other option other than LeBron James at the end of game 2.  And are James’ teammates that bad?  For a man that has gotten so much praise throughout the season for being a great teammate, LeBron James seems to forget that they even exist at the end of games.

Sure he gets some things done.  There was one point towards the end when Orlando was slow getting back on defense.  LeBron recognized and dribbled past everyone for a monster dunk.  And he did make a three to get the Cavs within one point towards the end of overtime.  This probably goes back to the game a few years ago when LeBron scored the Cavs’ last 25 points in a playoff game against Detroit.

Maybe LeBron is not entirely to blame for the way he played the end of the game.  It obviously works enough for him to keep doing it.  Cleveland’s management deserves some blame for not surrounding him with better players.  Cleveland’s coaching staff could be blamed for not having better or more imaginative ways even for LeBron to get the ball and take the final shot.  And of course the officials need to take some blame for the way last night’s game ended.

After LeBron made his game tying free throws, the officials did the right thing by not calling a foul when Dwight Howard and Anderson Varejao got tied up on the last second lob attempt.  The players were instead awarded five more minutes of game time to figure it out.  But what about the sequence that led to those game tying free throws?

LeBron received the inbound pass from the sideline.  (Why NBA teams get to automatically advance the ball past half court after a timeout is beyond me and best left for another time.)  From the moment he touched the ball it was obvious that he was not going to even think about passing.

I coached a high school basketball team this year.  Anytime a player with the ball lowered their shoulder into the defender, a foul was called against the player with the ball.  No question.  Last night LeBron drove the ball and lowered his shoulder right into a backpedalling Mickael Pietrus.  LeBron then lost his balance and control of the ball.  LeBron could have gotten called for an offensive foul, but really it was a great opportunity for the officials to put their whistles away and let the players decide the outcome of the game.  Instead Pietrus was somehow called for a blocking foul.  Are you serious?

I am not an Orlando Magic fan.  But after watching that game and comparing the way those two teams played, it seems impossible not to like the Magic.  Their style of play is more similar to the college game that everyone seems to love, except that they do it much, much better.  (Don’t believe me?  Just ask former college All-American JJ Redick who can’t even get in the game for this team.)  The way they moved the ball and played an overall team game was such a change of pace from the Cavs end of game “give it to LeBron” offense.

This year’s playoffs have been so exciting and have been filled with great basketball.  It just disappointed me to see this game reduced to LeBron and the officials vs. Orlando.  Hopefully as the great Herm Edwards would say, “We can build on this.”

The Internet is a Harsh Mistress

I am always surprised by the way things work on the internet.  I don't visit this site for over 3 years, and yet it still survives.  Someone has decided that it is worthwhile to let my old words sit here and wait for what?  For me to come back?  For someone to want to read a track by track review of Strong Bad's CD written by a career camp counselor?  For the internet to die a fiery death?

Well I'm glad it's here because I think I'm coming back.  I thought myspace was going to be the place to be.  I thought that would be a great way for people to see my blog.  And yes, some of my friends took the time to read, but now there are better and more advanced ways to do things.  Plus, no one uses myspace anymore anyway.  Of course eventually I will ditch this blog again for what I think will be greener pastures only to come crawling back.

This is a strange place.

Hall of Shame

As we wait with baited breath to discover who will be elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame today, I am starting to see why people get so heated about who should or should not be elected. (I am also noticing that this article will become effectively obsolete in about two hours when election results are announced).

It used to be that the choices seemed really simple. The players I had heard of got elected. The other guys didn't. Now, however, I am starting to see a lot of names on the ballot that I recognized. Not only that, but a lot of players that I idolized. Now I know that Gregg Jeffries is not a Hall of Famer, but what about Orel Hershieser. I mean, this guy was unstoppable in the playoffs, but people are saying he's not Hall of Fame caliber.

The worst is the case of Albert Belle. Here we have one of the most feared hitters of the 90s. He is the only player ever to have 50 homers and 50 doubles in the same season. That is unreal. Yes he corked his bat, but that's not even the biggest road block. The real reason he will never be in the Hall of Fame is because he never got along with the media, and it just so happens that the media decides who's in and who's out. Kirby Puckett had a great career cut short by injuries just like Mr. Belle. Except that everybody loved Kirby Puckett. I loved Kirby Puckett. He's a in. Mr. Belle should be too.

Of course, in my world so should Donny Baseball, Hershieser, Will Clark, Lee Smith, and Fred McGriff. How can you not put the Crime Dog in? Seriously.

Bowl Season is Heating UP!

What a finish to the 2005 Alamo Bowl. This is prime example of why you never leave a game early. Unfortunately it was one of those coulda', if only, kind of endings.

After what was apparently a poorly officated bowl game, Michigan almost won on a hook and ladder play, that half the players in the stadium thought was dead. The officials did not even bother to throw a flag on the play, for the extra men on the field either because they didn't see the 75 extra red jerseys on the field, or because they saw the 20 extra blue ones and decided "Who cares, it's just the Alamo Bowl." I really thought it was going to turn into one of those "I actually saw it" type of moments I could brag to my friends about. Instead it was just another meaningless bowl game.

I need some playoffs!

Good Times and Crazy Times

For me the evening of December 21, 2005 will not be remembered so much for the most lopsided victory in the annual Bragging Rights game as much as for the wild evening that I experienced. Normally I don't miss the big game, but tonight we had some good times planned. Calc2 wanted to get the hook up going on with Jim Mahfood. The 40 oz. Comics creator was performing live art at the Red Sea on the loop, and Calculus wanted to do some networking.

The plan seemed to run into some hick-ups along the way, though, as family business often trumps other business. We did have Matisyahu and RJD2 to supply ample soundtrack needs for the evening. They helped smooth out and sweeten the otherwise rough spots in the evening. We found out that Eyecon was a new daddy. Rob G was in town and playing downtown. J-Toth managed to shoot a nail through his foot. Calc2's family was thinking about getting another dog. His daughter seemed destined to never go to sleep. Crazy times.

Taco Bell even wanted to make a brief cameo in the evening as a super villain of mythic proportions. How is it possible that they forget something every time you go through the drive thru. Luckily we checked the bag before we left the window. They forgot my Meximelt again. That's twice in a row they forgot a Meximelt that I had ordered, and at least the sixth time in a row that they forgot something in my order. When all was remedied, we went home. I may just give up on Taco Bell altogether. Is it really worth it?

We finally got going. We headed straight for the Red Sea. Jim Mahfood and Jose were putting up some mad artwork. DJ Pickle was working the turntables. We came around to say hi to DJ Mahf. Then the music stopped. Who kicked the plug out of the socket? Whoops. Boy I hope that wasn't me.

I tried to find a good spot to see the art as DJ Mahf took over behind the turntables. He started us off with his Jurassic 5 mix. Always good times. I found a comfortable spot to watch Mahfood do his thing. Unfortunately there was a couple of 30 year old women who blocked my view of Jose's work, but there was a cutie who was all smiles sitting off behind me. Nice. The 30 year old Buffarillas in front of me did supply some minor comedy as Mahf started digging into his less hip-hop oriented records. They absolutely LOVED! when he started to drop things like the Temptations and Boys II Men. "Finally some music I know! That incessant hip-hop was getting so tiresome. I mean it all sounds the same, right?" Whatever.

It looks like Rob G finally finished up downtown. He and Tucker arrive with the Frozen Foods crew. A series of greetings and sometimes awkward hip-hop chest hugs ensue. Apparently while at Rob G's show some tool decided to buy Tucker's CD just so he could break it in half in Tucker's face. Who does that? Someone who goes that far out of their way to symbolically declare their utter hatred for someone's art needs to realize that no one cares about their opinions. As Rob G mentioned, "These things only happen to Tucker."

The guys from Perfect Strangers hand me a newsletter and a CD. Vol. 1 Iss. 1 of On Air Magazine. This is definitely a service that St. Louis hip hop needs. Much love to the Perfect Strangers for showing much love to a hip hop scene that deserves much love. Of course, the most exciting discovery is that I finally have a copy of Serengeti's "Dennehey." Hopefully now more people can hear this masterpiece of rap love for Chicago.

Well the art continues and the turntables don't stop. Some other artists including Calc2 get to put up some art. The Doom piece that Mahfood did was probably the highlight of the artwork performed that evening. Things start to wrap up, and people disperse.

Calc2 and I head with Ben Sheppard to his place to watch the new 4 Star video. The Gonz is crazy and amazing. Eric Koston is unbelievably smooth. Japan looks like a lot of fun. How do they make it look so smooth and so easy?

We then head back to the Delmar Lounge at 2:30 where the crew is hanging out. As we come in Jim Mahfood and Danielle run off somewhere in an excited hurry. Whatever. We say high to DJ Mahf again. Then the fun really gets started. Danielle was caught allegedly tagging the vintage cigarette advertisement they had airbrushed on a back wall in the bar. Who cares? Cigarettes suck anyway. Cover it up. Use a less dangerous product to advertise and add some supposed "atmosphere" to the walls. You can call a bar anything you want, but in the end it's still a bar.

Then a team of bouncers storm the men's room:

Bouncer: What are you doing?

DJ Pickle: I'm taking a piss.

Bouncer: And what are you doing?

Sheppard: Taking pictures of my friend taking a piss.

And allegedly DJ Mahf is still performing art. "Oh wait, he's a real graffiti artist," someone chimes. Should someone get a free pass because of their apparent reputation? The bouncers apparently decide that it should not. They clear the bar for closing time leaving Danielle and Mahfood inside. Some of us hang out front waiting to see what unfolds. Calc2 thinks he has some Magic Erasers and offers to be a Good Samaritan and clear everything up for the artists. But, alas he left the Magic Erasers at home.

Then three cops show up with a paddy wagon and head inside. Then a few minutes later a fourth member of the St. Louis Metropolitan Police Department comes by and joins the fun inside. Then over the course of the next half hour we see as many as three more police cars stopped by the bar. Do they really need seven cops to take care of two alleged graffiti artists? In the entire city of St. Louis, there's really nothing better to do? There aren't any more serious crimes being committed? Shouldn't they be more concerned about suspects armed with real weapons instead of markers?

Finally at 3:30 they bring Jim and Danielle out in handcuffs. Ben Shepp snaps a few photos. The cops yell at him to stop, "You think this is funny?" Then they yell at us to clear the sidewalk because the bar is closed. Of course, since we are just inside the borders of the city, Pickle and Jose have to drive all the way downtown to try to bail out their friend. If we had been on the other side of the block, this could have been a much easier trip. In bed by 4:00 a.m. Crazy times. Am I getting too old for nights like these, or are these nights getting too old for me. At least I've got "Dennehey."