Monday, June 19, 2006

NBA Draft Growing Pains

I'm conflicted.

The draft is just over a week away, and I, as a Blazers fan, cannot decide between two players to draft. I know what you might say - you'd say, "Rosco, you're not the GM of the Blazers, you don't get to make that decision."

Yeah? Well, screw you!

The way I see it, the Blazers I am in the sitcom-cliché situation of having two dates on the same night. Now while this usually unfolds with hilarious circumstances to the audience, I have a dating reputation to uphold. So, stop laughing.

So as the night goes on, and I have taken fancy boy #1, Brandon Roy, to dinner and a movie, and I really start to "feel" his personality, I start to prefer him over Adam Morrison. I weigh the pros and cons. He's a better teammate, he plays decent defense, he has good "back to the basket game," and he put his jacket over that puddle for me. He's sweet.

But, then, after the movie, I call it a short night with Brandon so that I can meet with fancy boy #2, Adam Morrison. We go out dancing at a late-night club, doing basically a facsmilie of the rumpshaker, and guess what happens? I forget about old Brandon Roy, who is now sitting at home gabbing with his friends over his date with me the Blazers. Adam Morrison is fun and outgoing. He may not have all the qualities to look for, but he's exciting. That and he totally kicked this guy's ass when he spilled a drink on me. Broke his nose, and some other things - I think he's in traction now.

I go home exhausted and swirling with thoughts of the dates, unable to choose one over the other. After a full night's rest, it gets even worse. Who am I to choose? I mean, we only have ONE draft pick in the top five. If only we had two, we could have both! We could have both! Ah, but idle dreaming comes crashing to a close - we only have one. We can only have one.

All my girlfriends are telling my Roy is the solid choice. He's an upstanding fellow with few faults, but I can't help but keep thinking of Adam Morrison and that concussion he gave that guy...

What is a girl guy to do?

Of course, like any good sitcom (or, for that matter, a really, awfully, horrible one) the ruse has to be discovered, and both dates dump the protagonist (you had better believe that I am the protagonist, haters). Leaving me coldly in the rain, quietly sobbing to myself, I try to figure out what went wrong. Of course, I don't learn any sort of lesson, and I jump straight into a relationship with...

...LaMarcus Aldridge.

Oh, LaMarcus. He'll treat me right.

That'll get the show through another week before I am up to more crazy shenanigans.

But, knowing the Blazers and how much they love to F'in piss me off, they'll probably just draft that jerk Tyrus Thomas. Sons-of-bitches.

Either that, or those two non-teams - Toronto and Charlotte (they still don't belong in the NBA, posers) will select both my boys.

And I would really HATE to have to put together a "hit list" that might include Michael Jordan. But, Mike, you'll have to understand - you would have brought this on yourself.

So stay tuned until draft day. Until then, I'll still be conflicted*.

*after draft day, I will be steadfast with my decision that the Blazers made the worst pick ever.

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