Balls Cannot Make Declarative Statements

Four times!  Watching the game at home no less, and four times I heard Rasheed Wallace say "Ball don't lie" after a missed free throw.  In case you are unfamiliar, Old Grey-Spot unleashes his catchphrase after an opponent misses a free throw garnered via a dubious foul call on the Pistons.  And Rashkie, much like, well, every Spur except maybe Matt Bonner, finds every call that doesn't break his way quite very fucking dubious.  Therefore the ball, out of some need to right the wrongs of this world, starting with one bad call at a time, casts itself asunder.
First off, Mr. Wallace, a more grammatically correct statement would be "Ball doesn't lie."  And, if you'd be so kind as to humor me, throw a "the" at the beginning.  And trying switching it up occasionally:  "The ball, being a spheroid of utmost integrity, refuses to allow this transgression to stand."

Secondly, and this may be hard for you to hear Shee-Shee, the ball, uh, it doesn't uh... it's just a ball.  It doesn't have the ability to reason, to judge right from wrong, truth from falsehood.  It doesn't have hopes or dreams.  It does not cry or poop.  It never sleeps in.  It's not alive, Sheed.  I mean, yeah, it can bounce, but that's because it's round, made of elastic material and filled with air.  When you throw the ball at the ground it does not make the choice to come back to you Sheedums.  It's coefficients of restitution, not affection.  PV=nRT, not devotion.

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During the game the Detroit broadcasters mentioned that the Spurs and Pop were trying to get Elson to shoot more.  Terrific.  First Finley and now this.  Is there anyone told to shoot less?  Let's start running iso's for Oberto.  Let him go to work.

As President and Founding Member of the Ginobili Man Love Club I seriously considered putting out an APB on his whereabouts.  Then the last four minutes of the fourth quarter happened.  Still, something's not right.  And whatever that something is, I DEMAND that it be fixed.  By Sunday, when I'll be attendance here in Seattle.  Section 124, row 1.  Check it:

OMG I'll be able to smell Ray Allen's perfume from here!

I swear to God, if Manu doesn't play I'm streaking the court...

Stampler said I should wear a white lab coat and bring a sign that says "Ray Allen's OB-GYN."  Oh, if only I had the guts.  Anyone else have a brilliant idea?

Needless to say I'll attempt to take a bunch of blurry pictures and I'll be sure to post them... along with a recap that will probably be more about the quality of Chris Wilcox' corn-rows than the game itself.