Cleveland delenda est
Usqueuque idem eadem idem
I stared at the TV for a while. Then, I stared some more with my hands wrapped around my face. Karen said something to me. I didn’t hear her and I didn’t acknowledge her. I shuffled listlessly to the kitchen and reached into the cabinet, like countless times before.
First a tall glass, a pinch of sugar followed by some big hard shakes of bitters, then some more for good measure, followed by some soda. Next, in the front of the cabinet off to the left, the Knob Creek. A good solid pour. I can’t find any rat poison or strychnine. So, in goes more bourbon and a tired swirl.
No ice. I want to feel the bitter sting.
I sit, in silence, sipping and slowly feeling the warm burn.
Memory brings forth those familiar words: “Burn on big river, burn on”. Once again, I can feel Randy Newman’s melancholy lament in my ever aging slumping bones.
Usquequaque idem eadem idem.
As I sip some more and ponder in silence. I wonder how I ever thought it could be any different. How stupid can I be to get my hopes up? I want to curse and yell. It feels like King Leonidas is shouting in my ear “This,… Is,…. CLEVELAND!”.
Of course, it’s always the same.
We are doomed. This isn’t some insipid Dan Shaughnessy made-up get me TV interviews curse of the bambino gimmick. This isn’t a cute way to sell books. No, this is the way of the world.
Omnem dimittite spem, o vos intrantes.
The warm whiskey burned my esophagas and stoked the hurt. That’s when it hit me: Cleveland delende est. That’s really the only solution. It needs to be flattened and salt sown into the ground so that nothing (like hope) will grow there ever again. Otherwise, there will just be more pain.
“Cleveland, even now I can remember. ‘Cause the Cuyahoga River goes smok’in through my dreams.
Burn on big river, burn on. Burn on big river, burn on,…”
June 1st, 2009 at 6:34 pm
I thought the non-Lebron Cavs would be able to carry their fair share… which is not to say they had to provide 80% of the contribution as 4/5 of the non-Lebron contingent on the floor (ass-uming Lebron never rested… so in pure proportional terms, it would be >80% when he rested… presumably on the Seventh Day). No.. no… I wasn’t even looking for a 50% contribution… half Lebron, half the rest of the team. But I thought they’d be able to give a solid 35-40% contribution.
I was wrong.
He’s *still* a one-man show. I don’t know how one superhuman athlete could’ve done any more in that series than Lebron did. He needed help… and his teammates were mostly loathe to provide it.
Seems clear that unless Cavs management gets him a team… or heck, at least another player - he’s gone after next season… as Knicks fans are panting and hoping will happen. He’ll go to NY, or some other team that (a) has at least one other very good to great player, or (b) has the money and will to acquire at least one other very good to great player. And though I’d prefer he remained in Cleveland personally, I can’t blame him if he goes.
Not shaking hands at the end of the series is still Bush League, though. I thought he was better than that. I heard his BS reasoning afterwards that he’s not a sore loser… just a competitor. Bull-puckey. Being a competitor is leaving it all on the court… like he did the whole series. But a competitor respects the opponent that beats him even though the competitor left it all on the court. A sore loser runs off without shaking hands. That disappointed me. I thought Lebron was better than that.
I guess he’s human… and the rest of his team is… well, they’re tremendous slouches. Sorry. The truth hurts.
June 2nd, 2009 at 11:42 am
Barry Melrose said it best last night (I paraphrase): You shake hands when you win, like against Detroit and Atlanta, then you shake hands when you lose. In hockey, guys try to kill each for seven games. They beat the hell out of each other. When it’s over - they shake hands. This is basketball, it’s the least you can do.
June 2nd, 2009 at 7:00 pm
In-deed… no greater competition than the Stanley Cup playoffs… and no greater competitors than hockey players playing in the Stanley Cup playoffs. With rare exceptions, they line up when it’s over and shake hands. It’s called sportsmanship… regardless of how Lebron wants to try to spin it.