I’ve had 12:01 a.m., Thursday, July 1 marked on my calendar for 11 months. Guess what time it is.
You’re surrounded by a group of beautiful women who are 1) throwing themselves at you 2) cash-flushed sugar mommas 3) clingy, but so hot it doesn’t matter 4) want to spend the next six years of their lives with you, and 5) willing to bring in another “playmate” to keep this relationship fresh.
You’ve played the field for a couple months now, but at this point you’re ready to settle down. And not only that – you want a trophy wife. You want the girl that completes you, that makes people say out loud when you walk down the street,”That guy is the f*ckin’ man.”
So now let’s say one of these women approaches and asks you if she has a chance. Do you say:
A) Girl, you cannot be serious right now.
B) If you’d seen the other ladies I’m talking to, you would not even be asking this question.
C) Hell no.
D) This is a joke, right?
E) Girl, you don’t know how fine you are. A chance? You’re at the top of the list! (*double dimple grin*)
Bingo, Dr. Love… Then we agree that Chris Bosh telling the Miami Heat as much at a charity golf tournament Saturday means absolutely nothing. And, similarly, that an unsubstantiated rumor – perhaps floated by LeBron’s whoring entourage, yet still reported by the New York Times – that LBJ and Bosh to Chicago “is a done deal” is just that… Unsubstantiated and rumor. We agree that no matter what Stephen A. Smith falsely reports, none of the big time free agents sure to ink a fat (like buy-African-nation fat) contract in the next two weeks would say anything other than “yeah, I’m listening” at this point. The time for burning bridges begins tomorrow morning. All the other fodder you can more or less discard.
I share the above with you to cover my ass for everything to follow, because it’s quite possible that all the “sure things” and “absolute locks” we’ve heard regarding The Mythical July 1 are nothing but a steaming heap of BS glossed over by a bunch of money grubbing agents and freewheeling power brokers. It’s quite possible that the New York Knicks do have a legitimately awesome pitch to land James or Wade or Bosh – that they aren’t days away from cementing the “over promise/under deliver” hook in Jay-Z’s next smash single. It’s possible, at least, that Donnie Walsh and James Dolan don’t really have their pants around their ankles with fingers crossed for ‘Melo 2012.
But as we approach early Thursday, it looks increasingly more like New York severely overestimated its Big Apple cache and the value of its few building blocks (or are those plastic Legos?). Look, I like Danilo Gallinari as much as the next guy, but being the Michelob Light in a cooler full of Natty is no great distinction.
The Knicks appear to have screwed this up so badly as to make Plaxico Burress’ pocket-on-leg violence look positively genius in comparison. Here’s where we stand as of 6:13 p.m. on Wednesday evening.
LeBron, the Alpha Domino, has most likely whittled down his choices to Chicago (a lock according to the Times), Miami (highly likely according to Stephen A.), and Cleveland (a sure thing according to Veep Joe Biden).
Dwyane Wade, who apparently hosted a LeBosh summit over the weekend, now says that everything must be exactly right to re-up in the 305. Conflicting reports also suggest that Wade’s flirting with Boozer and that he wasn’t even in Miami this weekend.
Chris Bosh, the consensus No. 3 for scouts who like losers, shot the Holy-Trinity-to-South-Beach notion to hell this afternoon when he told ESPN that Wade/LeBron/Bosh together is “pie in the sky.” Pat Riley just threw up in his mouth a little. Toronto’s currently exploring a sign and trade for Bosh and I suspect that if he’s indeed hitching his wagon to LeBron, he’ll end up in Chicago for Gator great Joakim Noah and the Remains of Luol Deng. If he’s not, Raptors’ GM Bryan “If My House Was On Fire, I’d Grab the Marshmallows” Colangelo would do well to hit up the Gold and Purple for Andrew Bynum and Klomar. Can you imagine the Kardashians in Canada? I can. And it spells less TV time. Make this happen, Mitch Kupchak.
Joe Johnson, who might’ve cost himself a bazillion dollars had anybody watched Hawks/Magic, is busy giving Mike D’Antoni a crazy case of the “Oh Shits,” as he’s mulling a freshly minted max offer via Atlanta. This seemed like an impossibility just two months ago, but Hawks management has since brain-teased itself into thinking that Joe Johnson doesn’t suck come crunch time. A day ago, we were speculating about Amare Stoudemire/JJ to New York as part of newly constituted Suns West. Worst case scenario for the LBJ-less Knicks, right? Wrong, says Atlanta’s some $119 million change of plans.
Amare Stoudemire, who scoffed at the remaining $18 mill on his Phoenix deal some hours ago, looks more and more like Miami’s fallback guy… which is curious given that Riles wouldn’t trade pot fiend/headcase/underachiever/Sponge Bob enthusiast Michael Beasley for him at the deadline. Amare’s still negotiating with Phoenix, but “negotiating” implies no max. He’s not going to find a better or more unselfish wingman than Stephen A. Nash, but he will find more money and maybe an old coach in D’Antoni. New York better be all over this because Amare might be their only way to save face. Too bad Walsh just passed on a scheduled chat to woo Johnson instead. Nice move, Donnie.
Carlos Boozer is Carlos Boozer, so I’m not going to spend much time on him. He’ll take your team to the second round of the playoffs, but only if armed with the best point guard in basketball. He’s interested in Miami, New Jersey and Chicago… and Miami, New Jersey and Chicago – bless their souls – are interested in him.
Dirk Nowitzki just flew back from Germany to negotiate with Dallas. “This is a very good sign,” according to Mavs camp. And a lucrative sign, I imagine, for Dirk to pass up a mid-summer frolic with blond, blue-eyed ice queens. He stays.
Carmelo Anthony, who can’t opt out until Strike Year 2012, wants in on the fun and has thus hinted to Denver that it can take its 3-year, $65 million and shove it. The Denver Post reported today that both ‘Melo and the Nuggs are open to a trade. Hello, New York! Just kidding. It’s a possibility, but I have trouble believing Denver can’t get something better than Gallinari and Gallinari’s Posse Italiano for a top seven player in the league. Maybe if they throw in Al Harringon? Nah, that’s a joke too.
So I guess my question to you, the New Yorker, is this: how do you feel about Nike’s Rudy Gay/David Lee/D-Gal banner on the side of the Empire State Building? Would you prefer Darren Collison/Anthony Randolph/Peja Stojakovic? Do you wanna just give up on this whole basketball thing altogether?
Last week, Coach D told reporters about the Knicks’ typically crappy draft, “Our big date is circled as July 1.” You’ve heard this before – hype, promise, return to glory. Here’s the problem: every GM and his mother is pushing the exact same thing. We’ve long known that some team walks from this free-for-all star grab empty handed. And if you had to put money on it right now, you’d bet on the team that’s built a franchise on 10 years worth of colossal eff ups – the team that traded away it’s 2010 first rounder to the Jazz, its ’09, ’11 and ’12 picks to the Rockets, gave away Nene and Trevor Ariza, took on T-Mac as future sign-and-trade bait, and is still paying human pin cushion Eddy Curry $11.3 million.
Cap guru Walsh did his job, admirably finagling $32 million in free agent dolla dolla bills even with Curry’s disastrous contract on the books for next year. This money was for King James and Pippen Comparable. Maybe it still is. But at this point, all signs point to spectacular failure for a braintrust who gave the finger to contingency in favor of pushing chips all in.
Say a little prayer for Spike Lee tonight.