Orlando- Area reporters at the New York Knicks shootaround on Tuesday afternoon were treated to an impromptu and somewhat candid interview with star forward Carmelo Anthony who, while cajoling his teammates from the sidelines, admitted to reporters that "defense is really hard, dog."

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Say your prayers

After the great win we had against the Thunder (recap), I was reminded that we did it without the Spurs star player, T.J. Ford Manu Ginobili. This blog has been Manu-centric since the beginning. He's smart, he's flashy, he's all you'd want in a player.

We here at PtR are yearning for his return. We can't wait to see him fit back into the rotation and make heads turn. Why not make this fun?

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Welcome to the fourth installment of my very own, JRW-mandated series "Coach Pop Culture Lessons," where I comment on things wonderful and terrible in the world of entertainment, and desperately attempt to connect it to the Spurs.

There's a mole right at the top of the Fiesta.

He's been there for years.

He's very good, you know. Very good at hiding in plain sight.

If this season takes a turn for the worse, worse than it is already, there are only a handful of men who would be in such a position to commit that level of athletic espionage.

Let's take a look at the suspects.

You'll notice my man-crush remained unmolested. I also forgot there was a woman in this movie.

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Welcome to the third installment of my very own, JRW-mandated series "Coach Pop Culture Lessons," where I comment on things wonderful and terrible in the world of entertainment, and desperately attempt to connect it to our beloved Spurs.

I sometimes think I was born too late.

This may come as a shock to some of you, but I emerged screaming into the world in the summer of 1987, long after the years of George Gervin and Artis Gilmore, which also made me just a bit too young to fully appreciate the first championship in 1999. This may come as a bigger shock to some of you, but I also feel like I missed out on one of the most polarizing decades in American history: the 1980s.

If it were up to me, I might have chosen to be born around 1970, so I could come of age in the most legendary, fondly-remembered geek age of Star Wars, Dungeons & Dragons, Atari, The Breakfast Club, and much, much more.

Where I'm sure he'd rather be

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Back by popular demand, it's the second annual posting of our most well-known musical parody. We don't have a new Christmas treat for you this year (as of yet) but you can enjoy this again (or for the first time) just the same.

Lyrics after the jump.

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Welcome to the second installment of my very own, JRW-mandated series "Coach Pop Culture Lessons," where I comment on things wonderful and terrible in the world of entertainment, and desperately attempt to connect it to our beloved Spurs.

The first three films in the Mission: Impossible franchise were very much the Ethan Hunt Show. To a large extent, that had to do with the immense star wattage of Tom Cruise overpowering anyone who could possibly co-star with him. Of course, stars fade, or go crazy, or (in the case of Cruise) both. That's why the latest, awkwardly-punctuated installment, Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol, directed by Pixar wizard Brad Bird, is refreshing--the focus is back on the Team. Cruise can't do it alone, no matter how many explosions he runs away from in slow-motion.

The espionage/heist genre has always been one of my favorites, because I love watching a great ensemble cast bounce off of each other (the assumption is that it's well-written, because there have been plenty of these that fell quite flat). From The Dirty Dozen, to Ocean's Eleven, to last year's Inception, everyone has a clearly defined role, which the usually insane plan can't succeed without.

So it is with this year's Spurs. Let's have some fun with this one, and cast the key players in a testosterone-soaked, team-driven thriller:

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The package had been left anonymously on RC Buford's desk. His secretary had no information about it and there was no return address and no note. In fact, there were no markings on it of any kind. It was a plain manila envelope with a single VHS tape inside. "Video?" wondered RC as he took the extra long walk to the back room where all of the archival equipment was held. He brushed off the only rusty key on his keychain and whistled "Don't Fear the Reaper" as he jiggled the lock that always seemed to give a final little protest before it opened.

via Hades2K on Flickr

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A lockout. A finalized labor agreement. A trade denied. A commissioner's thank you letter to the fans of the sport he oversees. Thankfully for everyone involved, the last item on the previous list brings clarity to the whole mess thanks to the new Between The Lines functionality, which presents (in parentheses and italics) those thoughts that are meant, but not expressed. In the new Google redesign, it's a hard-to-find button nestled amongst all of the personal settings, but it sure does reveal a lot when it comes to the email I received this week from the silver haired (and silver tongued) David Stern, the entirety of which is included below.

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