Mondays suck… even around here. So we're taking time out on Monday's to make ourselves feel better and rant about something that pisses us off.
Kobe Bryant’s pass hung in the air for a moment, and then it was gone, disappearing into Andrew Bynum’s giant hands just long enough for him to viciously flush the ball through the rim. The Phoenix Suns’ center, Channing Frye, had raked Bynum with a foul, but no matter. On this night, Frye, like all of the Suns, could only stare hopelessly up at the Los Angeles Lakers.
Hung… giant hands… stare hopelessly…. Is this a column or a love letter?
It took Mrs. Bryant Ludden 17 paragraphs to mention that Phoenix was coming off the second game of a back-to-back and that the Lakers had played the cushiest schedule ever to start an NBA season. Even with this dramatic advantage over all the teams in the league, the Lakers remain a half-game better than the Celtics in the standings. That's right – a half game.
Here's my retort to Mr. Ludden and other Laker lovers in the media:
I want to look him straight in the
eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten,
fore-fleshing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred,
overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, d!@kless,
hopeless, heartless, fat-@ss, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped,
worm-headed sack of monkey s@!t he is. Hallelujah. Holy s@!t. Where's