Killing Brain Cells One Dunk at a Time

Okay, so I skewered (or lightly poked) at the Blazers front office, now I take aim at the on-court personnel. And really, I have no added beef substitute for most of the players, but I have been in head slap mode (not to be confused with the "head bop") since the Blazers acquired Mr. Miles some infinity ago. Now this is nothing against Darius personally - he just happens to be a 24-year-old with millions upon millions of cold hard Blazer dinero. Sure, Darius is athletic. Sure, he has some base level talent on which to build. Sure, his arms are fifteen feet long. But, Darius, and I say so with the utmost respect, please find yourself a rock to crawl under. Darius came out of the, in hindsight, weakest draft of the latest NBA generation. And, from the looks of it, Darius still is one of the most talented out of that draft class. His rivals, you ask. Well, here you go: Kenyon Martin (#1): A chronically injured, chronically overrated player, and he's out of the House of Huggins.... ugh. Stromile Swift (#2): Remember that dunk on Yao? People say he's in Houston now. Marcus Fizer (#4): Tearing up the NBDL. Mike Miller (#5): Talented? Sure. Do I like him? No. Can I tell you why? No. Jamal Crawford (#8)/Quentin Richardson (#18): Huh, they both play for the Knicks, and we all know the Knicks have no problems whatsoever. Joel Przybilla (#9): Don't get me started on the Przydent - I love this guy, a great role player and can be pretty effective in a pick-and-roll offense - good thing Portland runs that all the time- nevermind. Michael Redd (#43): Second Round? He is the only stud from this draft class. Oh, and the Blazers were a nano-iota from getting him for Zach Randolph (they were so close that I had to make up a word). At the outset of last season, Darius proudly took it upon himself to be the leader of the team. Or, at least, that's what he promised. Being under 25 and a leader on a National Basketball Association Franchise is actually all well and good... if your name is LeBron James or Gilbert Arenas. If your name, however, is Darius Miles, it probably won't work out. You know what? It didn't. Now this "leader" wants out. Fine by me, I say, good riddance (but, I really do hope you make something of yourself wherever you go, just, you know, don't let the door hit you in the bop zone on the way out). Of course, Blazer fans want something in return for him (as if he has done something to make himself a valuable trade commodity). I say throw him to the wolves to the highest bidder, which in all likelihood would be a Jalen Rose (or some other douche worth way less than his inked price). Poor Darius - he has the upside one only sees once in a million, but a work ethic mirroring middle management. To sum up in an apt movie quote: "Get off my plane!" Er, make that franchise. For the record, Darius is the Oscar Mayer® Processed Turkey Loaf of NBA meats.