Can you believe MJ is still torturing himself with this shit even while going through maintenance chemo as well?
Why do I hate myself in this manner?
In retrospect my Game 5 pre-game analysis turned out to be brilliant and spot on. 4 vs. 10 basketball on 10’s court very seldom if ever bodes well for 4.
Peyton Watson and Julian Strawther…you dudes are still young—so I’m not including you in this. The other two men between them have a regular season MVP trophy and an NBA championship ring…so consequently, I feel I have the right to say these things to them on my blog.
Russell Westbrook and I go back a long way…back when I was the King of the Daily Thunder internet and ruled the Thunder narratives with a noble benevolence which I had hoped would elevate the millennial rabble from their minimalist ignorance.
Russell’s brother, Ray Jr., and I became friends and he followed me around as if I were Al Pacino or Jack Nicholson. So this is a very akward moment for me right now. A painful moment…like when Michael realized he had to kill Fredo for the good of the family. That kind of moment.
But you know what, I’m in a much different space right now as a Stage 4 cancer survivor. The world has slowed down for me. Things which used to bother me…don’t seem quite that big of a deal any longer. My two grandchildren are my two biggest deals. Being loyal to my main core family and friends are more important than a basketball game.
So–for the time being…I’m going to pause on my Game 5 recap and take out my competitive anger by literally riding the terrain bike at the OKC Wellness Center on Sam Bradford Blvd. through the wall. If this incident makes its way on local news…you’ll know you read about it first on okcthunderground.com. It was an act of premeditated anger.
And while I’m on the bike…I’m going to pray for Russell Westbrook’s basketball soul. Russ… I’ve pleaded with you for well over a decade not to hit the 3-wood over the water up onto an uphill green and make the safe play. I’ve pleaded with you to hit the 7-iron, layup, and make par.
Yet…you continue to mock my sagacious advice.
So…I’m praying for you today, Russ. Follow your heart, but ask Aaron Gordon what he thinks. He seems like a good dude. I’m seriously praying for you. Pretend, I’m your caddie, like Speck in Dead Solid Perfect. Last two holes of the U.S. Open. You and Donnie Smithern dueling for the Cup with two holes to go.
If you pull that f–king fairway wood out of your bag again…I’m going to climb through my flat screen and choke you to death. Hit the iron. Make the smart play. You can’t bogey the 71st hole if you want to play the 72nd hole with something to play for besides second and third. Trust me this one time, buddy.
Ask Ray Jr. if El Prez is right. Hit the iron just like so.
Have a nice day, Oklahoma. Your team is one win away from advancing to the Western Conference Finals.
MJ