The One about the NBA - November 23rd

As a rule I don’t watch the NBA. I have nothing against basketball per se, but if I’m going to watch a sport, it’ll be one I could’ve (theoretically) played professionally. I am a 6’3” man with more rolls on my belly than there are Cubs playoff losses. In an ideal world I could have played football, and thanks to John Kruk and Babe Ruth , baseball. But for the viewing pleasure of all, basketball doesn’t even warrant a nod in my fantasies.

Now you know where this is going. The Detroit-Indiana brawl has become a talking point for every media outlet in America. If it’d happened on the day of the election the Presidential results would have rated a paragraph on page three of USA Today.

Such are the interests of Americans.

And all the more power to ‘em, I say. A good ol’ fashioned throw-down between millionaires and their intoxicated fans is a heck of a lot more interesting than say, the latest appropriations bill in Congress.

I’m just surprised no one’s blamed this fracas on Karl Rove. According to the left, it’d be just like him to rig a fight to shift the focus away from his - I mean Bush’s - administration.

[unrelated blurb: for giggles, I rented Bush’s Brain from Blockbuster. Here’s a friendly tip for the propagandists on the left of the aisle: if your going to make a documentary, spend more than $5 on it’s production. And just for aesthetics, interview people who don’t look like rejects from Blind Date. When Karl Rove is the most attractive man in your movie, you’ve done something wrong.]

For those of you in a coma, a decent on-court fight between the Pacers and Pistons took a turn for the worse when a fan threw a cup at Indiana's Ron Artest. He charged into the stands, punching fans along the way.

It got worse from there.

Now Artest is an idiot. This is true if for no other reason than the little voice in his head should have been yelling “lawsuit, lawsuit. Gotta keep my Benjamins” instead of “Kill Bill” or “Jackie Brown” or whatever Tarantino mantra was in charge up there.

(Really, doesn’t Artest watch the NFL? There’s an order to things inthe sports world. If you want someone dead, you wait until after the game and help your friends shoot him. Then you’re acquitted and become a bible-quoting marquee linebacker. Duh.)

But an honest man has to lay some of the blame where it belongs, with the fans. You notice I said ‘a cup’ was thrown at Artest. I didn’t have to specify it’s contents, your mind filled in the blank. (And no Mom, it wasn’t a soda. Go out and see the world already, will ya?)

Anyone who decides to waste half a month of rent on basketball ticket’s is crazy. Someone who does that and then gets so sloshed he won’t remember how he spent his money is a crazy idiot. A guy that does all that and decides it’s a smart idea to throw a cup of beer at a 6’7”, 247 pound man with a violent reputation, well . . .

Maybe Darwin was wrong. Evolution should have weeded that guy out long ago.

And the loon that jumped on the court to continue the fight, only to be laid out on the floor with a single punch? Priceless.

My recommendation: proceed with Artest’s year-long suspension. He deserves it.

And while you’re at it, banish the fans in the front rows to the next WWE event. It’s where they belong.