Well, now that I’m married, my wife is pregnant with our first child, and I am more than halfway through grad school at Va. Tech, I am going to begin talking about important things. That’s right, the NBA Playoffs have started. As much as I like the NBA, I love the playoffs. Every game is very important; great players rise above, but even more so, great teams rise above, and teams’ contrasting styles and personnel are tested and compared. Liv and I have watched two playoff games so far, though, because we aren’t able to get ABC, and we don’t have cable. The highlight reels at go.espn.com have served as our sustenance in this staple food group. Dallas is still in the playoffs, fighting off their opponents and all the prognosticators, who have predicted sweeps by the opposing teams in each of their first two rounds. Dirk Nowitzki, however, is the real issue. The German Bird finally had his first “Ri-Dirk-ulous” game of the playoffs in game 4 of the Phoenix series, and even that was only about par for him. Unless he starts playing better, I don’t believe that Dallas can put away the Suns. (I feel obligated to make some sort of prediction when I’m discussing the playoffs.) Right now, however, the series is tied 2-2, with the winner facing the winner of the San Antonio/Seattle series (also tied 2-2).
Continuing on the playoffs thread, Liv has decided, against her God-given authority (me), that she will cheer for the San Antonio Spurs, one of the most-hated teams for a Mavs fan. Obviously, she is in sin; however, I have decided not to fight this battle and to hope that God will convict her in a two-fold manner: first, that the San Antonio Spurs are, by virtue of having the softest players in the NBA, a Frenchie for a point guard, and Robert Horry as a valuable back-up, not going to win the NBA championship (and if they do, are not going to deserve it); and second, that her husband is in the right, and she should have found something about the Mavericks to cheer for all along. Not that she would have to look very hard, though, because a 7-foot tall, fade-away shooting, 3-point nailing, ball-handling German wizard of a basketball player is reason enough in and of himself.