I remember watching Taxicab Confessions with a certain enrapt glee, but eventually the formula wore me out. How many train wrecks can anyone enjoy watching before they feel just a little too dirty? Well - this Raptors season has turned out to be a little too much like that bit of reality TV. After a New Year’s Eve loss and the stupor that I welcomed the new year with, I took advantage of my late cab ride home to have my own meltdown. Now the best part of the show was the end when all the poor saps look so damned please when presented with the consent forms. It was like they realized they didn’t spill their guts and humiliate themselves just to some dopey driver - they made it into epic television. The fair amount of worthlessness they displayed became worthwhile in its own right thanks to the benefits of upping the scale. So I hope to gain the same benefits by sharing my episode here on the internets.
LX: Toronto is a beautiful place tonight. So many beautiful people. All of ‘em. There’s a glow in everyone’s face. You don’t see that enough in this town. We need more pointless holidays.
Cabbie: I think it’s just the cold. It tightens up the pours nicely. Mix alcohol with frostbite and everyone looks young, fresh and so alive.
LX: Yeah. OK. I’ll buy that.
Cabbie (looking at Raptors toque on LX’s head): You were at the game tonight?
LX: I think maybe I was.
Cabbie: Trying to forget huh? There’s a lot of that going around.
LX: I think it might be much worse than that. Y’knowY’know - Ya know what I mean? I mean hitting rock bottom, and like right now. BOOM! Ouch. I think I hurt myself.
Cabbie: That bad?
LX: That bad. Raptor fans hit bottom at different points I think. For some it was maybe when Hakeem didn’t pan out and they couldn’t afford to keep Keon. For others it might have been when Alvin couldn’t play anymore, or when Vince just didn’t want to play for the first time, or the second time or the last time. Then you’ve got the Vince trade blubberererers. Some were able to hold on but then just couldn’t handle Sam winning Coach of the Year and somehow making it impossible for the Exec of the Year to actually get the coach he wanted.
I’m not sure if any one thing triggered it for me. It just feels like this team is right back where it was so many years ago. Instead of Jalen Rose demanding post-ups and stewing when his shot was blocked, we now have Jermaine O’Neal. They both look like the same guy on the verge of not being able to recover the glory days with the Pacers, and every little personal triumph is a little affirmation that they can still do it - that they are on their way back to playing for a ring. They both started out looking at the reality of the team around them the right way. They both gave it a few games before support for teammates turned into blocking them all out in order to avoid seeing the shortcomings. And that’s when their own shortcomings became all too apparent. JO isn’t quite at that point yet, but I can feel it coming. Goosed by goose-eggs in the boxscore. It’s bound to happen sooner than later right?
Not that JO matters, as long as Bargnani is no longer held back. Win, lose, lose, lose - I don’t care anymore. Just don’t make me see Bargnani regress. The kid was making a difference. He was having an impact. He was locked-in, focussed, running back to block layups on breaks, getting double-doubles! This was not the three-point specialist. I never fell in love with that guy. This was a goddam center that could get all over the floor, be a presence under the basket, know where to be in order to challenge shots without having to lunge in desperation, keep the heavyweights under wraps. Give me more of that and I won’t need wins. Stop confining the kid to 20 meaningless minutes every night. If he’s going to sink or swim then give him an honest chance, and forget about any ideas of saving the season, or making Jermaine look like he’s deserving of a lion’s mane.
I’ve got a bottle here. I’m going to have a little drink if that’s ok?
Cabbie: As long as I don’t have to carry you to your own front door. Everytime that happens there is pissing and drool and barf. I can do without that. So just go slow.
LX: Yeah - I’ll pretend I’m Jose Calderon. Man they finally got to where they were pushing the tempo the last couple of games, and how long did that take? And guess what guess what? The opposing teams wanted that tempo. The guy hasn’t been able to dictate anything. Last night he looked like he grew up a little. Dahnte Jones was being physical with a lot of pressure, and Jose fought through it pretty good after his initial, usual panic. He actually looked like he was gaining some advantage. They were building a lead in the third and looking like they were establishing themselves as a team and getting into a rhythm instead of just treading water and hoping. I got pretty jazzed up y’know. Ya know what I’m saying? Passes with a purpose. No hesitation. A little bit of scrappiness. And then - wow! - Jose grabs a rebound and takes off like the second coming of Skip to My Lou. Bosh has got a defender pinned down in the paint. There’s a clear path to the basket. And just like he’s done all season long he avoids zipping his way onward to the basket. He’s damn near broken his own ankles while abruptly pulling up in those situations before. Well he’s at least learned that he can’t be doing that anymore so he just whips a pass right to the guy that Bosh had occupied. Next position - he walks it up slowlyslowlyslowslowslow and tosses the ball right back at the defender that is standing there waiting in the post.
Ah - how I loved the ocho. He once dictated so much. He once played aggressively and confidently. Two seasons ago he went to the line 3.4 times per 36 minutes. Last season it went down to half of that. This season it’s up a little, but he’s taking all the techs as well, which doesn’t exactly reflect his aggressiveness. 72 out of 72 is fantastic. I’m hoping he doesn’t miss all season. But I really hope he gets back to where the other team has to foul him regularly. I want him back to where he’s using that great ability to make the right decision, instead of allowing the opposing defender to decide everything from unos to infinity.
This team defies any kind of sense. I hear the analysts on TV saying that Roko and Graham are going to excel under Triano. Is Roko even alive? There’s just no answers. They try to make out like Bosh is making bad decisions by taking shots when he’s got all five defenders in front of him. Fuck them all - anybody trying to make sense of this team, including myself right now. It’s garbage. They had Leinas Kleiza carving them up for a stretch. Like maybe they need to cut out that shit before worrying about Bosh doing more than he already does.
And it doesn’t matter. Maybe Bosh up and leaves and tears up the league, or maybe he stays and tears up his knee some more. I’m not seeing any light at the end of the tunnel right now. They couldn’t even offer any entertainment at halftime tonight. The Raptor came right up to the nosebleeds and I was almost close enough to give him a fist bump. But y’know if I saw him right now I’d tell him to go fuck himself. When did a dinosaur getting his nuts crushed become comedy? He should be replaced by the guy in the Dino outfit at Canada’s Wonderland. Dino would never have to worry about getting his nuts crushed. The guy had no equipment that I could make out. I never could figure out how he managed to make pups with that Sassie glam chick. Remember that one? Sassie come home! Oh shit - she’s been knocked up by some kind of working-class-trash-pet-stock. Haha - good work Dino! …They don’t make TV like that anymore… Good wholesome entertainment…Heyhey we’re the Monkees…Did Bobby marry Cindy in real life or did I just dream that…I mean that’s kinda sick…and now it’s all garbage…500 channels of needing to change the channel…ch-ch-ch-CHANGES!…Garbage…GarBangKnee for THREE!…and TSN2 tootootoooooo…garbage…junk…unbefuckinleavable bull bull bull bull…
Cabbie: Ok boss - we’re home. Can you make it to your feet now? Good? Keep the change? That’s very generous sir - have a good new year now.
LX (walking towards his front door): garBang-knee for THREEEEeeeee.
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