I am confident, yet angry. Severely angry. So angry I can't see straight. Why? Because I have to take a motherfuckin' flight to San Diego DURING Game 7. None of my shitty San Diego "friends" can work a VCR properly either, so watching the whole thing on Monday night will not happen. I may not see Game 7 until well after Game 2 or 3 of the next round actually, when my uncle sends the Tivo DVD to me in the mail. So yes, woe is me.
I will try to write some coherent thoughts about Game 7, the series, Mark Cuban, AJ, Dirk Diggler, The Sickness, The Wee Rapping Frenchman, Rumble, Pop, Small-ball, The Big Bug, JET, Findog, Bruce, Devin Harris, KVH, Bones, Stack, RoHo, and of course Beno Udrih, some time late at night before I go to bed.
But not before, I shit you not, I finish an article for school about The World Cup.
I'll sign out by officially picking the Spurs to win this game, by somewhere between two and 56 points. I'm really hoping we win it because I haven't touched myself since Game 2, and though I really miss me, but I doubt I'll be in the mood if we lose.
Here's a toast to lots of shots taken by guys whose last names end with -uncan and -obili.