Monday, April 02, 2007

The Clippers have not so suddenly won 7 out of their last 9. For a little perspective, prior to that, they’d lost 6 of 7, so yeah, it’s something of a little turnaround, ok, no, it’s gigantor vs. mothra in the fetid scrap metal pit of doom, a la Elvis trading shots with Jimi Hendrix with the stakes either or both’s own very eternity in the pop cultural landscape, winner take all. Dare I exaggerate? Sure, but the truth lies only about 3 feet from the mythology, and the metaphorical Poseidon figure looming large over all proceedings is 1 quarter real, 2 quarters Memorex, and 3 eighth’s polyurethane foam of an unknown origin. Don’t ask me about the rest; the mystery is a thick soup of inequitable lack of fortune that is best left in the unwritten annals of history.

I’m veering off into sectors that are completely lackadaisically irrelevant, so I’ll focus, but leave it to say, the ship has been righted. Saturday night’s blowout win at Portland (and that’s what it was, despite the fact that the Blazer’s closed to within 15 or whatever it was down the stretch) was a sign bigger and bolder than M. Night Shalamalam’s dessicated wheat fields, and the message read “beware of clippers.” Some messages were made to be obeyed, and others ignored, only the harbingers of their own fate can ascertain for sure what they’ll do more than a moment before it is done.

I for one hope the rest of the league buries its collective head in the sand, better for our scrappy squad to sneak into enemy camps under cover of the night and carve hearts and savage fanbases that for years had lauged and howled and pointed barbed fingers at our sadsack allegiance to what appeared a lost and withered cause. Wherefore art thou now hecklers of midmorning’s last vestiges of dawn? You’re at the bar, that’s where, drowning sorrows in recollective anticipation of LA bastard stepchildren flying through an arena near you, slashing, driving, dunking, blocking, doing that which never, once the chips had apparently been layed, and then not up until a couple weeks ago and then that much moreso in this copper laced millisecond, appeared possible in the hearts of men women and/or children not involved in a very real sense in a revolution of the disenfranchised loyalists of a nation strong and wide. Rejoice, weep, whatever works.


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