Screams from the haters got a nice Ring to it.

LeBron got a ring. After weeks of hate-watching the NBA playoffs since Derrick Rose went down, it has all come to an end with an outcome that will leave many of us angry and disappointed. But I’m not at all surprised. It was his time.

In a world of excess, glitz, illusory glamor, shortcuts, promoting yourself as a brand rather than a human being, and the want to constantly remind the world of just how goddamn special you are, it’s only fitting that the city of Miami and their basketball team are the “World” Champions of Basketball. What other team in the NBA would represent our time better than this above average mish mash of a team? We all sat, stared, and hoped that the thing we’ve been afraid of for two years now wouldn’t come true: LeBron James & The Miami Heat, Champions. It might have started with The Decision and then continued with the “…not 4, not 5, not 6, not 7…” but up until this point the real reasons we’ve rooted against them is because of our hope (and denial) that the great sport of basketball would not take the same inelegant path our American culture and society has taken. (It has.)

LeBron James is an undeniable talent. He’s built for the game of basketball. He works hard, constantly tries to improve, involves his teammates, stays out of the tabloid headlines, and he seems like a nice enough guy. He is the best basketball player in the world. So why do we cheer against him so often? The answer is simple: he’s not the Hero. In the 90’s, when Michael Jordan was dominating the globe with his game and his brand, there were only a handful of people who genuinely hated him. And they were all either playing or rooting for the Knicks so they don’t count (because they’re barely human). It was extremely difficult to really hate the guy, even when he was beating your team easily and mercilessly, because you had to appreciate his dominance, his confidence, and the beauty in which he elevated the game of basketball. Jordan was the hero, even when he was supposed to be the villain. When I talk to Knicks fans, which is very rarely (remember there is a language barrier, they’re barely human), they brag and boast about the moments when the Knicks were close to knocking off the Bulls (they remember history differently, they’re barely human), and then they pause and their eyes gloss over as if they are simultaneously remembering their child’s first steps and the death of a beloved dog. They remember, in awe. Hero.

When LeBron and his talents arrived in Miami, it seemed more childish than anything. Like the kid who complains to the gym teacher endlessly so he can get switched to the other team that his friend is on. A shortcut, instead of braving the storm and manning up. And we judge this harshly because we place superhuman qualities onto superstars of the world. We want them to figure it out and fuck shit up. When LeBron put on his assassin face and chopped it up against the Celtics in Game 6, I watched in awe. Sighing at every made LeBron basket but also respecting the game. It was a thing of beauty. But where was the team in all of this? Making wide open 3’s from the corner or lying on their backs like hillbilly teenage girls. I’ve never once heard a team get applauded for their ability to draw a charge until the 2012 Miami Heat. Who is a fan of that style of basketball? Where is the beauty in it?

It is the Miami Heat’s time. Instead of building a team around fundamentals and passion, we will watch LeBron overpower everyone and everything while complaining for fouls. His teammates will stand around until they can draw a charge and they’ll all dance in the end. We’ll all sit and watch disgusted, knowing that this team and style of basketball has turned into a reflection of the American mentality. Bullshit, boring, and disgusting.

When we’re bouncing our grandkids on our laps in a few years from now, how will we describe this moment? Will time have eased the pain and will we give this team more credit than they deserve? Will we still be comparing LeBron James to Michael Jordan? Or will we just accept it for it was. A YMCA basketball team lead by the most dominant basketball player in the world and his bitter sidekick, oh yeah and the Avatar looking guy. Obviously, a lot of our future opinions depend on what LeBron does with the rest of his career. But we’ve undoubtedly already started shaping them. Whatever happens I will remain a fan of the game and of my Chicago Bulls. A team that is defined by hard work, team first, and most importantly, humility. That’s the world I aspire to live in. That’s the narrative I want to watch unfold and be a part of. I will continue to watch LeBron in awe but not in the same way I watched Jordan. LeBron is an awesome player. Jordan was a God. It didn’t matter if they were fans or opponents, he made us all feel like little kids again. And as kids, we see everything in a new way, a more beautiful way. Let’s hope Derrick Rose and the Chicago Bulls will bring us there. I want to feel like a kid again.

Beautiful.

Sigh.

Someone apparently threw some D's on this bitch.

Why the hell is this picture saved to my desktop? And why did it take me so long to notice?

The Title Run Begins Next Year.

Well. The Chicago Bulls' season has come to a disappointing close. A bad decision by CJ Watson at the end of the game will be the talk of the town for the next few days and then hopefully people will get back to their regular lives. Of course, we should (always) be disappointed in the biggest chach to ever put on a Bulls jersey (there have been plenty), Carlos Boozer. I'm not even going to do him the courtesy of looking up how many points he had in this last game because I know it's lower than the average number of shits I take a day (so what if my average is unusually high at 4.83?).

But I'm not overly upset about it. Because I have it all figured out. Let me share.

The Bulls suffered tragic injuries this postseason. It was difficult to watch (repeatedly thanks to a million replays) but it had to happen. Yes. It had to happen. We will never know if the Bulls would have beaten the Heat in the Eastern Conference Finals but it doesn't matter. What matters is what happens next playoff run. This year, I almost want the Heat to win. Because if they do, LeBron James is doomed.

It goes like this. The Heat win this year. Fuck. Shucks. Goddamn. Oh well. Next year, the Bulls will get Rose back halfway through the season. He'll be shaky and a shadow of his former self at first, but we'll still cheer him on and get (nervously) excited when he blows past the defense for an easy layup. I don't expect Rose to be what he has been the past few years. Not yet. (It'll take time but Rose will be amazing again.) The Bulls will not have the best record in the NBA but they will play hard and give us plenty to be proud of. During the playoffs they'll play a couple of tough series before they run into LeBron and the Heat. Let's face it. LeBron has beat the shit out of the Bulls for many years now. Even when he was on the Cavs he chopped it up against the Bulls. If you don't remember this, then I envy your faulty memory that forgets all the bad stuff. (I once farted at my grandfather's wake. Not just a fart. A family of farts that smelled horrible and that everyone (maybe even my grandfather) heard. My brother made fun of me until I cried. So imagine some priest saying religious words then having to pause because a little chubby kinda yellow kid is lightin' up the back of the room like it's America's Birthday. Not sure who came away from the whole experience more traumatized. Anyways, I'd like to erase that from my memory and everyone else's. I'm sure the priest talks about it with all his boring priest friends and they giggle over it while they're drinking wine and staring at the wall.) The Bulls will play the heavily favored returning champions Miami Heat in a 7-game series that will come down to Derrick Rose and Joakim Noah outplaying LeBron James and Dwyane Wade. The Bulls will win. LeBron will forever be remembered as the guy who won a championship only because Derrick Rose was hurt. Rose proved it when he came back as a lesser version (for now) of himself and still managed to get the better of the Heat through solid fundamentals and with the support of a hardworking, close-knit TEAM. There will be less of "LeBron isn't mentally strong enough to lead a team to a championship" and more of "LeBron only won because Derrick Rose was hurt." And doesn't that sound better? Derrick Rose. The loyal, humble hero of Chicago, wins it for his city. The good guys win. For once.

So let the Heat win this year, who gives a shit. Think of this year as the setup and next year as the punch line. When the Bulls trample them in the playoffs next year, everyone will have something to smile about and something to laugh at.

3-peat. Then repeat.

Josh got me this for my birthday. I'll be wearing it on every article of clothing.

Your neck bone is connected to the...love of your life.

I was once told, "If you can't bench press her, she's too fat." I'd hate to be the first guy in history to succumb to that death. A weakling suffocating under his fat disgusting girlfriend. Can it get more embarrassing? Either way I think it's simple advice. The only problem is, I'm pretty small and adult women usually weigh over 85 pounds. So if I was to take this advice I'd be standing outside middle schools wearing sunglasses and handing out Tootsie Rolls (while doing the Tootsie Roll). That's a totally disgusting life.

Now watch this video.

                           
                         

Are you totally blown away? You better be. That one dude was playing the accordion while balancing that other dude who is playing the accordion on his head. I watched this over and over and told myself that it couldn't be real. But then the guy gets down and I can't see any way around it. And of course I dissected this the way I dissect everything. (Seriously.)

1) Who was the first person to do this and why?

2) How can this help me pick up chicks?

I got to thinking. I could find a partner to do this with, preferably somebody bigger than me because (again) I'm small and don't think I have the neck for most of my friends. Also, if I was upside down on a friend's head, chicks wouldn't be able to tell how short I am. Win win. We could stand around staring at people then I'd casually pop up onto his head and wait for the chickadees to flock. Sure we'd hear cheesy jokes like, "You must have a lot on your mind." But we'd get over it.

Having this talent would be revolutionary for me. I could go to a bar (or the library, wherever), sit next to a pretty girl and say, "I bet I can balance you on my head." She'd think I was being a pervert and I'd have a smooth reply like, "Girl. Don't get a head of yourself." (Doesn't make any sense but chicks usually just like stuff that sounds smart.) Then I'd pop a stranger on the top of my head and balance them for a minute and she'd beg for me to give her a try. So I'd pop her up on my head and she'd never want to get down. And it's not like she could anyways. Falling straight on your head from 5 feet 6 inches (unless I'm wearing my good heels) would result in a cracked skull. No woman would want that. I'd just walk straight out of the bar (or library) with her on my head and take her home. Easy as pie. 

Plus. You'd have proof that all those friends you have that supposedly get all the girls, are really just bringing home whatever they find at the bottom of the barrel. Just look at their necks. It's like rings of a tree. A bigger neck with more "rings" only means one thing: Fat bitches. Those guys at the gym doing those ridiculous neck exercises with the weight strapped to their head are just gearing up for battle with the big mamas. More power to them. More importantly, guys would have to stop putting gel in their hair. How the hell are you going to balance a chick on your head if your hair is all gelled and spiky and shit?

So not only have I cured my loneliness. I've rid the world of hair gel. You can thank me later. I have to go practice balancing some shit on my head.

Let's Go Bulls!

The Bulls are back baby! Believe. For two straight seasons the Bulls have had the best record in the NBA. Derrick Rose has led the way, but his strong supporting cast of Luol Deng, Joakim Noah, an unbelievable coach, a fantastic bench, and not Carlos Boozer shouldn't be overlooked or taken for granted. I was extremely excited about these playoffs and I'm still intrigued on how all of this is going to play out. After watching Rose go down in what appeared to be a tremendous amount of pain, I knew that a new Bulls storyline from these playoffs would begin. I knew right then and there that his season was over. His season.

Step yo game up Boozer.

The thing about injuries is that they always happen but you never expect them and never want to accept them. I've made jokes about all of the "aggravated groin" injuries that plagued the Bulls all season. Should we be surprised Rip Hamilton started off the season with sore balls? Do you remember the last team he played for? The Detroit Pistons. If you didn't know, that team plays in, yep, you guessed it, Detroit. Now I didn't memorize the 2012 Ho-Rankings for The Lower 48 but I can say with strong certainty that Detroit is definitely on the Lower part of that list. So he moves to a new city with better looking hoez and he smacks his balls on some of them too aggressively (he was in Detroit for a long time) and ends up walking like he just got done riding a horse for a month straight. (A lot of the women in Chicago are comparable to horses only in weight, lord knows them bitches can't run.) So we sat around and waited, uncertain what Rip could do for the team. Luol Deng has had a bum wrist all season. Torn ligament. I believe this was actually a basketball injury unless I've got him all wrong and he's up late behind dumpsters passing out HJ's to new, lonely friends. (My guess is that you use your weak hand in those situations so you're not constantly reminded of it when you pick up a pen, peel a banana, take the lid off a jar, etc.) CJ Watson was taking all kinds of treatments for his battle wounds. Then there were all of the Rose injuries. The turf toe, the back, the ankle, all of them. But with all of these injuries to all these players, each and every one of us sat back and said, "Well that's alright. As long as they're ready for the playoffs." As long as Derrick Rose is ready for the playoffs. Even if you were extremely worried that he wasn't going to get enough rest and the schedule was too hard on his body because of his All In style of play, you still managed to lie to yourself just the right amount so you could go into the postseason thinking, "The Bulls are warriors. We won all of those games without him and now he's back and we're ready to go all the way." Then he went down and reality crept back in. And we have to accept it.

I sat around and watched almost every single Bulls game this season (and many other seasons) and I'm extremely disappointed that our King isn't going to lead the team into battle. But when I look back on what happened this season, I can't allow myself to be surprised.Yes, the Bulls have an incredible team (TEAM, not 3 pussies supported by a bunch of D-leaguers) but they've been beat up. Even when Rose came back from all of those injuries he didn't seem like the Rose we've come to know and love. Don't get me wrong, he was still excellent, but that's because he's one of the most talented players in the world and even at 75%  he can outshine the best of them. But I was always on edge watching him, hoping that everything would be alright.

(Side note: The only thing Bulls fans should be surprised about is that Kyle Korver didn't get a groin injury all year. Look at that guy. He must have plowed through 94% of the city by now. Then again, if he's attracted to physically fit chicks, that mean's he's gotten laid three or four times in the past couple of seasons. Sucks to have standards!)

And if you think Coach Thibodeau should be fired, please move to a different city and kill yourself. He's the best coach in the league and the best thing to happen to the Bulls (besides Rose) for a very long time. He's passionate, hard working, extremely intelligent, and looks like he knows all the best pizza places. And I hope the rumors are true. I hope he is gay. Maybe some of you faggots will be more accepting of others who may not live exactly the way you live. Anyways, what's not to like about the guy? So the Bulls were up with a minute and a half to go. Don't play that game. Rose needed to get back into game shape by finishing teams off in the final minutes. These are the playoffs. Fear should never be a part of the game plan. "As long as he's back for the playoffs." Well he was back and it's the playoffs and he's getting paid to destroy the opposition. He needs to be on the floor at the end of games to do that. Extend Thibodeau's contract today. 

The playoffs are still going to be fun to watch. I am a Bulls fan. I love Derrick Rose. (After he went down today I sank into my seat and stared into oblivion until...well, I'm still kind of lost.) But the Bulls are the team I grew up watching and cheering for. I'm glad he's a part of it, but that's exactly it, he's a PART of it. It's still going to be an amazing run. I'm still looking forward to yelling at Boozer, screaming at everyone to give the ball to Deng, being amazed that Rip can still shoot the ball so well, cheering on the little guy John Lucas, hoping Noah slaps somebody, and wondering why Scalabrine is on the team. But seriously, why is he on the team? I think they should hold a raffle every year. $100 for a ticket and you can only buy one. Must be at least 18. Money goes to charity. A name is picked and you're the last guy (or girl) on the Bulls roster. Winner also gets paid $1 million. You also have to have a Chicago address (Fuck You suburbs). Think about it. Every single person in Chicago would get really into it and get behind whoever got picked. Fat lady that can't run. Can't wait to see her sitting next to Noah taunting the Heat. Mexican city worker that doesn't know anything about basketball. That locker room is going to love those tamales. Girl that is kind of unbelievably hot. Put her in Coach! Let's see how many groin injuries the other team racks up. That's if Rip Hamilton doesn't get to her first. 

Today I felt like my house burned down. But these playoffs aren't over and next season Derrick Rose will come back stronger than ever. The Chicago Bulls will be alright. I promise.

Get well soon Derrick Rose. Your city needs you.

Funny caption anyone?

Boston City.

Leaving New York City always seems like a good idea to me but never materializes because I'm too broke to fly to the badass places I'd love to visit and because I'm lazy. Mostly because I'm lazy. Sitting around and pretending to be working hard on my passion isn't very fun but it requires very little effort and planning. It just requires sitting, staring, and a little bit of lying/exaggerating. I'll take it.

This past weekend I got my ass on a bus and made the long-procrastinated trip to Boston/Cambridge to visit Conor. We've been good friends since high school and I'm always curious to see how much old friends' lives differ from my own. What I'm doing (nothing, I just moved to a different city to not do it in) is a lot different than what most people I know do. Conor decided to pursue his goals by continuing his education at Harvard and rack up design competition wins, an awesome diverse group of friends, and continue a stellar academic career. He's going to do big things. He's all in. And I couldn't be more proud of the guy.

I got to Cambridge at about 1 a.m. and met up with Conor at a house party. He warned me that parties at Harvard tend to be toned down versions of the parties we frequented in Urbana but I couldn't have cared less. I saw 2 or 3 thin-enough girls that looked like they might talk to me if I was smooth enough/quick enough to corner them and that's always more than enough for me. In reality, the only girl I talked to was extremely weird and I only stayed in the conversation to be nice. Yes. I can lie and plaster on a smile with the best of them. Don't let all the bitterness and bullshit that comes out of my face fool you. The night was a success. I got to meet Conor's crew and get an idea of how the future leaders of the world (that's what Harvard graduates are right?) get down on a Friday night.

Me and Jan hanging out with Dongsei, Luke, and Kees. These guys work on projects when they're hungover. I can't even do that when I'm not hungover.

On Saturday, Conor gave me a quick tour around Boston and we met up with another Northside College Prep graduate, Mr. Lew Jan. Conor and Jan hadn't seen each other since high school so there was a lot of catching up to do which basically meant Conor and I listened to Jan talk for 2 days straight. Seriously. If he didn't eat $95.00 worth of Indian food on Saturday night, I would say it was the most impressive thing I saw him do. $95.00. Now let's spend a few minutes laughing at what he liked to do on his wedding day.

If you have a bald/Polish fetish then go nuts. You deserve it.

The best thing I did in Boston was go to a Celtics-Heat game. Originally we had no plans to go to a game but since tickets were offered and we well-rested after a calm Saturday night, it seemed like a great idea. When else would I get the opportunity to see two teams I despise kill each other? Actually, probably every day since I hate every team that isn't from Chicago.

The Garden's atmosphere is seriously unmatched. I love the Bulls but I think there is something kind of shitty about the United Center. It feels like a mall and the way it's lit makes me feel like I'm there to see the Chicago Symphony Orchestra instead of Derrick Rose, Joakim Noah, and the rest of the boys from The Chicago Fucking Bulls (excluding Carlos Boozer, I'm never there to see that bum). I also think WGN has something to do with my opinion of the United Center. Stacey King is amazing but their broadcasts are way too quiet. It sounds as if 14 people and Boozer are the only ones that are mic'd. The Garden felt far different. Everything was really well lit, the stupid games they played on the JumboTron were far more entertaining, the dancers were hotter, and the (approx.) 100+ championship banners they have hanging over everyone's heads make you feel like you are a part of something incredible. I fucking hate the Celtics. And I don't like the Heat. But the Garden is the place to watch a basketball game. And LeBron was complete garbage.

I'm actually not wearing all black. I promise.

All in all, Boston was a hit. The city was alright, I wouldn't go out of my way to make a huge trip there but having good company there helped and there are definitely some very charming things about it. It always helps when you're surrounded by a bunch of All-Stars that know how to have a good time. Next time I'll be sprinting after Harvard girls.

And the best thing I did in Boston will go unmentioned. My mom reads this. There is one thing I came away wondering though. If they make so much money, why do they only buy "cheap" perfume?

Whatever it is...smells pretty damn good to me.

See you soon Conor + The Harvard Boys!