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It Got Weird, Didn't It?

Game 15 @ Golden State: Warriors 111, Spurs 102

Okay, weird night. I guess this isn't the sort of thing I'm supposed to say, this being a Spurs blog an' all, but honestly, I've never been less bothered after a loss. I mean seriously, I was completely over it .000001 seconds after the whistle. Actually I was over it two minutes before the whistle when it became obvious we were going down.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Here's how my Monday went...

I woke up, spent 45 minutes on the computer researching something about prescription drugs for a group project in school, and then my best friend came over. We left and saw Fast Food Nation because I owed him a big favor and he really wanted to see it. I don't know why. He's a vegetarian like six days a week and doesn't even eat fast food. He's the proverbial choir they're preaching to. Did he want me to see it as an intervention? It's like, I get it dude; I'm a big fatty. I don't need to see this or Supersize Me to know that fast food is bad for me, I didn't need to see Thank You For Smoking to know that smoking is gross, I didn't need to see Requiem For A Dream to figure out that heroin isn't a good idea, and I don't need to see Tony miss a whole mess of long jumpers to know that I don't like him taking long jumpers.

But yeah, the movie was very disgusting and sad. Actually a lot of famous people are in it, but I guess they're keeping their names out of it because the message is the thing. Bruce Willis, Wilmer Valderrama, Greg Kinnear, Luis Guzman, Avril Lavigne, Kris Kristofferson, Patricia Arquette, Ethan Hawke, and Paul Dano are all in the movie. Also one of the main characters was the really young girl from Growing Pains, like their desperate attempt to keep the show going. She's like 23 now. I feel so old. So go see it if you're into watching movies where an illegal immigrant gets his leg chopped off, malnourished cows have their guts spilled everywhere, and there is no discernible plot whatsoever.

Of course, after two hours of that, we had our appetites worked up for lunch with my dad. Well first my totally whipped friend had to go buy the next day's dinner for himself and his worse half at Chipotle. She's a vegetarian so now he's a vegetarian. My little joke is that as long as he doesn't eat meat, she will. Oh boy does he find that amusing. It hasn't gotten old after the 57th time I've repeated it, no sir. So he spends like 11 bucks on two flour tortillas with rice and cheese and sour cream in them, oblivious to the fact that the price they charge is kind of a rip-off sans meat. Oh and then he spent another twenty on buying her a T-shirt from some sushi place. This makes perfect sense of course, because they don't eat fish. W-H-I-P-P-E-D.

Okay so at 1:35 we arrived at my dad's office so he could take us out to lunch. These are always fun because he spends the whole time grilling me on my life in San Diego, openly discusses all my deficiencies, real or perceived, in a loud voice the whole restaurant can hear, and keeps reminding me how he won't be giving me any money after this semester ends. I probably should have told him I'm not graduating quite yet. He wouldn't take it very well.

Anyway, we decided to go to Max's in Redwood City. I guess it was my suggestion, so what happened next was my fault. Or maybe it was fate. I was in the middle of receiving some lecture when my friend spotted her. Oh my God. I thought I'd never see her again. I was completely freaked out. My friend explained to my dad that one of the waitresses was this girl I worked with for a long time at a previous job and we were friends. Technically this wasn't a lie. What he left out was that I have this girl's initials tattooed on my arm. I think she knows. I think somebody told her. I'm not positive. I haven't asked. Anyway, whatever we had, and it wasn't much, and it ended badly (everything ends badly or else it wouldn't end, eh Tom Cruise?). So I really felt embarrassed and awkward, and I wasn't so thrilled about her seeing me fatter than I was four years ago, so I was hoping to not make eye contact and just slink out of there, no harm, no foul.

No luck.

She spotted me. And to my surprise she approached our table. We actually had a pleasant conversation in front of my dad. Both he and my friend went to great lengths to point out I've almost graduated college now and I write a lot in various formats and people read it. I believe exaggerations were made. I was too busy pinching myself underneath the table hoping this was all a nightmare to remember fully. They also made a point of emphasizing to me how she volunteered, completely unsolicited, that she's unattached now. Ironic I suppose since most girls I've spoken to lately have slipped their boyfriend into the conversation inside of two minutes. "Oh really, your name is Michael? That's so funny because I call my boyfriend's penis Little Mikey."

Long story short, MY DAD MADE ME EXCHANGE E-MAIL ADDRESSES WITH HER. I have mentioned I'm 28, right? Of course, my friend was laughing his ass off the whole time since he knows all the stuff my dad doesn't. I sure am glad his girlfriend gave him permission to hang out with me that day. Anyway, I've recently gone into this girl's MySpace account, and we exchanged a couple of brief letters. Once again she is occupying a significant proportion of my idle thoughts. I have nothing in common with her and live 500 miles away. I can't believe this just happened.

Okay, anywho, the game. I got picked up at six o'clock by this friend I've made over at this other site, I write over there when I don't write over here. I've been dubbed their "Tim Duncan." I don't handle compliments well. I never know what to say. I just mumble "thanks" and stare at the floor. I never know what I'm supposed to do. How does Matthew put up with all you losers worshipping him? Oh, right, false modesty.

You should hear what he calls you readers behind your backs. "Sheeple." He's a cruel bastard.

Kidding! He loves each and every one of you. Sheeple is something I heard an animated George W. Bush say on tonight's South Park episode. I hope I don't get in trouble for making a political reference.

Where was I? The game loser, the game. Right. Okay, so this friend picks me up to go to the game, but we can't really talk like a couple of adult Spurs fans are accustomed to talking because for some reason he had a couple of extra tickets and he thought it'd be a great idea to bring one of his students along and her kid brother. He's a teacher you see. The friend, not the kid brother. He was like, ten. They weren't even Spurs fans. So that part was lame.

Then we joined the other guys outside the arena, and I'd finally met all the guys over at the other site. It was cool, they were all super nice, there was more gushing, more thank yous and staring at the floor, and more awkward silences. My mind was already a jumble. We went inside and we were kind of late, so I missed the warm-ups. While in line for food before we found our seats, I saw the line-ups announced on some TV, and it was official, Finley was starting again. Instantly I thought to myself, "Well, I just spent $65 to see us get beat." I didn't have a doubt in my mind.

As I said, everyone was real nice to me. They wouldn't even let me pay for my food since I've offered them my services for the same bargain basement salary that Matthew gives me. I've discovered that it's hard to be analytical about a game when you're carrying on a conversation with three other people about this documentary called Whatever Happened to the Electric Car and they're asking you about your career plans and ideas for their website. It's like, man I don't know. I just write. And often I do so quite poorly. And my mind was so not on basketball that night, y'know?

You want actual game analysis? Here goes....

-Andres Biedrins is a fucking beast. This guy is easily the 2nd best center in the Western Conference and by far the Warriors MVP. If he doesn't make the All-Star team, something is seriously wrong with the coaches. We have absolutely no answers for his scoring ability, his rebounding or his shotblocking. He owned an exhausted Duncan in the 4th quarter. Picture the lovechild of Emeka Okafor and Fabricio Oberto and you kind of have a handle on his game. He is pretty much the only reason for Warriors fans to think that maybe, just maybe they're turning the corner toward respectability. They have to lock this kid up for the next decade, immediately. And I do mean kid by the way. He's only 20. Yowza.

-Speaking of Oberto, tonight was a solid "C-minus" for him. He can play and make lay-ups and rebound against small teams, but on those odd days he goes up against a real center, he has no chance, period. Seriously why even start him against teams with a five who can score inside? We already know what's going to happen.

-For some reason our defense gave them a bunch of straightaway jumpshots. Either top of the key or top of threes. Not a lot from the wings or baseline. Was this planned?

-The Warriors seemed to be paying a lot of attention to Barry. So they're reading scouting reports now.

-P.S. Barry cannot guard Mike Dunleavy. I don't know who on that team he can guard, but he can't guard Mike Dunleavy. Might as well put him on Ellis, at least he won't get posted up.

-Robert Horry is stealing money. Just retire already. How many games will we have to go through this ritual of Pop inserting him into the game midway through the 1st quarter, discovering he's got nothing tonight, and then using him sparingly if at all in the second half? Just play Matt Bonner already. At least he'll give a shit. Or give Elson more minutes. Or Butler. I don't care anymore, I really don't. This is getting disgraceful.

-Tony sure does like to score garbage time lay-ups. I don't care what anyone says, I'm not crazy. He obviously cares about his numbers a lot more than Tim and Manu do. You can tell by how he plays and the decisions he makes. Pop doesn't give a shit, he just wants to have Tim and Manu healthy in the playoffs. But for the record, this doesn't impress anyone who's paying attention, and Tony will always be # 3 when it matters.

-Games like this help to reaffirm the opinion that like Ron Burgandy, Manu is "kind of a big deal." They might have had a shot last night if he played. The Warriors' worst defensive position is shooting guard, where Richardson is their latest 25-25 guy, following in the proud tradition of Antawn Jamison, Chris Mullin, and Rick Barry before him.

-Eric Williams? Are you kidding? Why not just play James White? How much worse could he possibly do? What, are we afraid of alienating Eric Williams now? Are afraid of upsetting the Eric Williams applecart and possibly ruining his effectiveness for the stretch run? All he is is a contract that's off the books at the end of the season and everyone knows it. So what's with this artificial pretense of respect we're giving him? The guy's not stupid, he knows what's going on. You can put him in street clothes the rest of the year and he'll be fine. Have you seen his salary? Why don't we play the guy who might actually have a future here and contribute?

The game would've gotten uglier a lot sooner if we didn't go a goofy 24-26 from the line. Just to show how big of a deal FTs are, I guess.

Ahhh whatever. I'm happy for the W's. Bay Area fans deserve to have a little pride in their basketball team. All they have right now are the Sharks.

Your 3 Least Shitty Players-

*3rd Least Shitty: Michael Finley- Sadly, 5 of 13 is like his 3rd best shooting night on the year. 18 points overall on 13 FGA isn't too bad I guess. He was quite horrid defensively though.

2nd Least Shitty: Tony Parker- Nice jumper there Frenchie. ::rolls eyes::

Least Shitty- Tim Duncan- 22-16-6-4. A little help?

Record: 11-4 Streak: L-1
Up Next: @ Utah Jazz

I won't spoil it for you.

P.S. Here is my MySpace URL...
Go there and you can find out who the mystery girl is. Be my friend and tell me how awesome I am so she can see.

I don't even know if I'm kidding anymore.