Deutschland Über Nobody
I do not care about the NBA. In my adult life, I have only ever cheered for the Detroit Pistons to the extent that victory for the Pistons is good for the morale and image of the City of Detroit and by extention the State of Michigan. (Of course, since the Pistons recruited the villain Webber, I cannot root for them under any conceivable circumstances.) But, watching Around the Horn and Pardon the Interruption every weekday afternoon, I know more about the daily goings-on of the NBA than I've ever desired to know. One benefit, though, was the extensive discussion of the defeat and playoff elimination of the top-seeded Dallas Mavericks by the Golden State Warriors. Bwa ha ha ha ha ha! People here in the godforsaken Metroplex love the Mavericks and endless sing of the praises of übermensch Dirk Nowitzki; so, it is with great relish that I celebrate the demise of their hopes and dreams. Ha! Between Tony Romo and the Cowboys, the first round ejection of the (should be North) Stars and now the collapse of the Mavs, the stench of defeat is prevalent throughout Dallas, Fort Worthless, and the rest of "North Texas." To me, their reversals smell like ambrosia. Ha!

Also, I think Saturday Night's sister has a point: bracketology. The NBA playoffs are only a quarter the size of the Tournament; so, I fail to see the advantage or necessity of a rigid bracket system.

Concluding our roundup of sports about which I don't give a rat's arse, baseball sucks. I'm glad this pitiful excuse for a human being is dead and I'm very glad he didn't take anyone else with him. If only all drunk drivers were considerate enough to kill only themselves and no one else. Of course, what else would you expect from a baseball team on which even the manager has been arrested for driving while intoxicated? Baseball sucks.