Fear and Loathing at the NBA City - Opening night

I was at the Wolves rehearsal last night, getting ready for the big opener tonight. You know -- the music goes, the video rolls, and the dancers run out and the explosions happen right on cue...that shit takes practice. But it's mostly a lot of sitting around waiting, while Crunch prowls around without his wolf-suit on, and people talk to each other on headsets.

Meanwhile, Mike Miller is going through his shooting drills - 10 makes from every one of his spots. And that whole "good work ethic", "good locker room guy" thing is actually working out. As soon as he finishes, Corey Brewer does the full drill. (Granted, it takes a little longer...but Corey can actually knock down some shots. How quickly that translates to a game situation is anybody's guess.) After Corey, Kevin Love comes out to do the same drill, with assistant coach JB Bickerstaff helping him make adjustments, and Love talking back.



After the Hoop Troop finished practicing their trampoline dunks, we all got to leave. So I roll over to the NBA City to watch the end of the Celtics/Cavs game and check out the Blazers/Lakers. The place is nearly empty except for a couple folks up at the bar. So I take a spot next to Al Jefferson. He is making the moves on a young lady to his right, so my dream of watching a game with Big Al and getting the scoop on how good Tony Allen is remains unfulfilled. But he did give a big hoot when Leon Powe got way above the rim for a huge dunk in the 4th quarter.

Instead, I'm joined by a quality Laker fan who has big ass diamonds in his ears, but needs 50 cents for the bus and drinks water all night. So maybe he is a Faker, at least as far as the diamonds go. I feed him some pizza, and he tells me all his insider NBA information about how MJ smokes blunts on the golf course, and Pippen gets in fights with everybody. As the Lakers begin their early run, the Faker starts using some of his pet names for the Lakers. Vujacic was "Sasha Vagina" and Lamar Odom was, of course, "Scrotum." The Faker revered Kobe Bryant, but confided that he has a nickname for him that he only uses when he gets really, really mad. "What's that?" I ask. He looks around, I think to make sure no other Laker fans are listening. "Rapist," he whispers.

By 11pm I decide to get out of there. It's halftime and the Blazers are down by 20. Given the way it's gone so far, I don't much feel like discussing the first half or hearing the Faker's pet names for the Laker Girls. As I put on my jacket and walk quickly for the bus, Al Jefferson orders another pair of NBA City Hurricanes for himself and his lady friend.