It's All Over Now, Baby Blue
Written by Benn Hodapp, Sunday June 14 2009
It was set to happen, a tied series through four games. The Magic held a lead late. Not a comfortable lead, but a lead. They led by three with just a handful of clicks left on the board. They had Dwight Howard going to the line to make it at least a four-point game. His legendary free throwing shooting woes had been silenced recently. He was well over 60 percent these days. At times in the series he was shooting like Mark Price from the stripe.
But then it happened. The same thing that always seems to happen for the Lakers. For absolutely no reason at all the opposing team just messes up. There was nothing special about these free throws for Howard. It's not like the Magic were down one with no time remaining. They were up three. All he had to do was make one to take away any chance at defeat.
Clang...
"Shit," I muttered to myself after the first. I knew the rest before it even happened.
Clang...
I tried to calm myself down by assuring myself that the Magic would simply foul after a few seconds before anyone could launch a three. That's what you do in that situation, I mean, it's the only logical course of action.
But this, too, is too much to ask of a team facing the indescribably crunch-time lucky Lakers. How they continue to benefit from their opponents' stupidity late in games is something that will one day be chronicled in books of lore.
Hey, you know the one guy you absolutely never let run up the court and take a three with the game on the line? Here's a hint: it's the only thing he does or has ever done. He is useless the first 47:55 of the game, but in those last five seconds he is Thor. He has brought the hammer down on so many domes in the clutch that I don't even really know how to come up with descriptive adjectives adequate enough to cover it.
We all knew it at home. Did Jameer Nelson forget how these things go in his time off with the bum shoulder? I don't care if you have to do a flying Randy 'The Ram' Robinson move off the scorer's table; you do not let Derek effing Fisher dribble down the court and shoot a wide-open three.
And it was a wide-open three. Just because you can see Nelson's fingers in the frame does not mean it was defended.
There was no reason to watch after that. The wheels were in motion. Kobe got away with yet another elbow to an opponent's face, which is becoming his patented move. If someone elbowed Kobe in the face David Stern would order his hired sniper in the rafters to take him out. We can't hurt our favorite player, now can we?
Oh if only Mickael Pietrus had Howard's shoulders. Then the push in the back of Gasol might have crippled the giant turkey (I say turkey both because of his childish demeanor and the fact that he looks like a 7-foot-tall goddamn turkey). When you're up by five with three seconds left you can go ahead and feel free to dribble out the clock rather than throw one down to make some sort of point.
But then again, Gasol did what the Magic were unwilling to do...he put an end to it. He saw an opportunity to step on their face with his big, ugly three-toed foot and he did it.
As for game 5, it doesn't matter what happens. I imagine it will end tonight because you don't just come back from such a humiliation and suddenly get a second wind.
What an ugly time to be a sports fan. Los Angeles and Philadelphia are going to hold championships. Probably the two worst groups of fans in the country will walk around, holding their fair-weather heads high.
Sigh...
I told you.
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