HOW TO SUBMIT: E-mail dimebag@dimemag.com with your question/story/idea and include your name and hometown.
A quick note before we get underway: The DimeBag is running low. Your questions/comments and stories, thus far, have supplied just enough sustenance to survive – for a baby gazelle. I’m almost two hundred pounds. Up the ante and send me your submissions. If you haven’t heard, our five-year-old sandbox fight has driven the NBPA to decertify and call in the adults. So while each side sits in timeout in opposite corners, you’ve only got me. So feed the engine before I go on strike, accuse Dime‘s fearless leader, Aron Phillips, of unfair labor practices and undermine his credibility through juvenile media attacks and unverifiable truth-bending. Don’t push me, I SWEAR.
And now, to release my pent-up aggression, your NBA Fight of the Week. Joakim Noah vs. Anderson Varejao:
If either of these guys were six inches shorter, they’d be that quietly adept big man in your work league whose hair would cause you to question general hygiene practices.
Anyway, two caveats for the fight: Neither man is allowed to take a charge. Flops are auto DQs. I’m sorry, I know I’ve taken 64% of their offensive arsenals away, but rules are rules. Bookies, adjust accordingly. On the flip side, hair cannot be used as a weapons or lassos.
So who wins? Anderson Varejao, of course. In a battle of arch nemeses, the original usurper of power always loses. In 2007, Noah entered the league with his crazy hair and ugly free throws. Varejao, meanwhile, was just beginning to get recognized alongside LeBron as that dude who comes up with timely rebounds and pisses the crap out of every NBA player. But two years later and Noah was doing exactly that, except he was better. Varejao was, by all accounts, a gimmick of sorts. The crazy looking guy who does crazy looking things on the court. But, somehow, it worked. When someone steals your gimmick, you fight back. Except LeBron left Cleveland, Derrick Rose exploded to become the MVP, and Varejao was left with the rotting fatty tissue of Baron Davis and playing second fiddle to Noah. This is Varejao’s one chance to repay that thieving scoundrel for his treachery. That said, Noah has too much pride to put down the gloves and take a beating. As long as his hand doesn’t get caught in Varejao’s hair, he’ll probably land a few haymakers here and there to make things interesting. But in a battle of visceral savages, I’ll take the one with more motivation.
More importantly, I think we can all agree that both of these guys could use a few punches to the face to better their luck with the ladies.
John, North Carolina:
What is Spike Lee doing during the lockout?
I’d like to think he has switched over to the New York Rangers. He’d probably detest the boards for their anti-heckling properties, but I wouldn’t put it past him to find another way to berate the officials. This, it seems, is the crux of NBA fanhood: Venting, constantly. We’ve all yelled at our television, for one reason or another. It’s a rite of passage, really. “If only Doc Rivers could hear me so I could relay my game-winning suggestion and alter the course of Boston basketball fate!” If fans can blow a gasket over a missed three in the second quarter, imagine how an NBA coach feels. His job is literally in the hands of his players.
Take Erik Spoelstra, for instance. I’m neutral on the guy. Frankly, there’s hardly anything to coach when you’ve got Wade, LeBron and Bosh. The offense will always devolve into some form of insanely quick transition and one-on-one half-court basketball. Yet, throughout the season, we couldn’t resist the temptation to speculate about his job status, as if he, or anyone, could actually effect legitimate change. That must have been awful. What do you say to LeBron when he pulls up for a three in transition? “Hey LeBron, stop doing that. You had Mike Bibby open.” Then he responds, “exactly,” and you both go on your merry way.
“But wait! Pat Riley fired Stan Van Gundy and took the Heat to a title in that same season! Clearly coaching changes work,” you might say. Well, I might respond, of course they do. Just not on superstar teams. Coaching changes work for rebuilding, when an attitude change is palatable and necessary. And that only comes when you have players still fighting for league-wide recognition, minutes, to make the team, etc. That wasn’t the case with Riley, nor was it the case last season under Spoelstra. Pat Riley didn’t coach Miami to a title. Dwyane Wade barreled down the lane for a month and walked away with a trophy. There’s no coaching in that, I’m sorry.
So, moral of the story: Leave Erik Spoelstra be, but feel free to heckle the hell of out him because, well, it’s fun.
Sam, Philadelphia:
Have you ever been sitting at a bar, watching a basketball game, wanting to hear the announcers? I understand that some bars don’t want to blast the TV and instead will play music, but there should be an alternative, like on airplanes. You should be able to plug in headphones to the bar to hear the game. Just a thought.
A wonderful idea. But of course, that does beg the question, why are you going to a bar to watch the game in the first place? You could just watch in peace at home, with sound. Then again, you have someone serving you drinks, food, and random people to banter with. And here’s a further question. If it’s a bar/restaurant, does the headphone option extend to tables? It’d probably be disrespectful to whip them out while sitting with someone. It may also further facilitate our inability to talk to people anymore. How often do you instant message someone whose four feet away from you? I do it all the time, and think I’m being all clever by not talking. Even worse, how often do you send someone an emoticon, or say “lol, or “haha” or some other emotional response that requires facial contortion, yet don’t even change your expression? That was a rhetorical question, because the answer is all the time. I’m sick of having to decipher emotions via the Internet, especially from people who have overly professional or enthusiastic email personalities.
Also, I don’t respect anyone whose email address is not through work, school or Gmail. Everything else seems sketchy as hell, and I will assume you’re trying to solicit my credit card information. More on that, actually: why is it that credit card scam emails always have bad grammar? Here’s an actual email I got the other day:
Good day,
My names are Mrs. Jean Foster. I was diagnosed of cancer about 2 years ago,
and was receiving treatment for it, but now the doctors are saying I have a
short time to live.When I was in better health, I never really cared for any body with no
children of my own and a late husband I was a selfish and greedy person. I
have decided to donate the sum of $10.8M to you, so you can disburse to
charities, widows, orphans and the less privileged. I was doing this myself but now my health has deteriorated, I wanted my relatives to do this for me but they only saw it as an opportunity to enrich themselves. I will be going in for an operation soon, I want this last act of mine to be an offering unto God, perhaps he will have mercy on me. Please contact my lawyer with the below email address.Names: Jose Luis Gomez ‘Esq’
Email: chamberluis@mail.comQuote my ref: will/Wlaw/Pn/lr/93/ytx/ when responding.
I am sending him a copy of this message as well so he is aware of my
intentions, Please use the funds well and always extend the good works
others.Stay blessed,
Mrs. Jean Foster.
Okay, I’ll get right on it.
ALSO, people who don’t respond to emails over the weekend can go jump off a cliff.
David, Atlanta:
Shaq’s book with Jackie MacMullan is essentially his forum to bash everyone he ever played with. It’s fun to read, but why would Shaq do it? He’s destroying every relationship he ever had with a lot of these guys or reopening previously closed wounds.
He probably wants to set the record straight. And by straight, I mean with complete and unabashed bias that reveals him in all his shining glory and altruism. My favorite part, thus far, has been the Kareem/Shaq feud, in which Shaq accuses Kareem of never offering any coaching tips, while Kareem claims Shaq never wanted his help. Clearly, they hate each other’s guts. Kareem never wanted to help Shaq, and Shaq never wanted his help. Why is it so tough to swallow that one of the greatest centers of all time doesn’t want to help another great center surpass him in requisite greatness? If MJ were coaching the Lakers and Kobe started to become the player that he is, do you think he’d roll out the red carpet? No chance. He’d probably coerce the Lakers into signing a UFC fighter just so he roundhouse kick Kobe in the face during practice. You don’t get to that point of greatness without being ultra competitive, and that spirit doesn’t just disappear upon retirement. Clearly Jordan will be a world-renowned bridge player when he’s 89, just to stick it to the rest of the retirement community he lives in.
That’s all for this week. Check back next week for Volume XIII.
HOW TO SUBMIT: E-mail dimebag@dimemag.com with your question/story/idea and include your name and hometown. If you really insist on being a sketchy anonymous Internet weirdo, I guess I can’t stop you. So at least provide some sort of name and location.
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