You've Got 10 More Days To Not Fuck This Up

Running and maintaining a website/blog/rant-o-rama like The Howeva Files is certainly a labor of love. Those who even glance at the site have noticed my affinity for three distinct things outside of the realm of basketball:

1. Booze
2. Las chicas
3. Las chicas who like booze

It's hard to write a coherent sentence, much less an entire post,when you're double-fisting your drinks while a naturally stacked chick is straddling you.

But that's the beauty of my journey.

My vague point is this: I like basketball. Actually, we all do. We love it. That's why we're scared shitless at the moment. For the next 10 days, there is NOTHING going on in sports besides basketball. Don't kid yourselves fanatics, 2-week long super bowl coverage, tennis, steroids in baseball talk and hockey do not count.

So why are we scared that we are no longer distracted by anything else and are totally free to soak in as much NBA as we please? The looming shadows of football and baseball allow basketball to oftentimes float just below the radar of the average fan. From afar the average fan can feel good that they have something to watch between Tuesday and Saturday. Now briefly exposed to the unadulterated bright lights of the world, the pimples and scars of a sport constantly battling an image problem are on full display. Why did TJ Ford's injury not garner as much attention as it should have? It was on the eve of a rare Thursday night NFL game, so there was much pre-game analysis to get to. Analysis of an entire basketball game is considered to be simple division when compared to the calculus-like intricacies of Derek Jeter turning a double play or Matt Hasselbeck making the right read against a cloud coverage. (By the way this is exactly why Jaws is invaluable to the NFL's fanaticism and why Bill Walton is killing the NBA's).

Since this is a sport that does not compare to the other big time ones when it comes to hometown fanaticism and analytic breakdowns by Sean Salisbury, the NBA has relied upon it's stars and their up-front personalities. Now that these personalities don't have to share the stage for the next ten days, they're totally free to fuck up and wreck the good karma they've been building up so far.

That is why David Stern and all those as invested in the NBA must do the following:

• Tie up Ron Artest to a steel girder in the bowels of Arco before he snaps again.
• Cut off the tongue of Isiah Thomas before he can put "New York Knicks" and "championship" in the same sentence again.
• Make sure Darius Miles is still rehabbing his knee at Baskin-Robbins.
• Keep Jerry Sloan away from any gay pride parades.
• Give Stephen Jackson his very own three-fingered dwarf to beat down.
• Slip Scottie Pippen a 20.
• Release the Will Ferrel's 'Semi-Pro' ASAP.
• Have Chuck Norris follow JR Smith and savagely beat him whenever Smith reaches for the car keys.
• Replace Nelly's post-game Bud with O'Douls.
• Award the Heat 10 wins for being such good sports.
• Suggest Kevin McHale go into a 2-week light-to-no coma.