I don’t mean to get all Darth Vader but the Clippers just inherited a shit salad by dropping yet another crucial game, this time in the Big D, and sad story becoming sadder, Golden State is up (very) early on the Jazz in the bay. It’s still the first quarter in Oaktown but consider this, batmen: if the dubs win that puts us back in that nightmareville virtual tie with the Warriors, and with NOOCH just ONE GAME BACK going into the monstrously huge (now) game in Oklahoma City, and absolute MUST WIN for our fair LA bastard stepchildren if ever there was one. Yoinks, Scooby, eff the mystery mobile, we need to basket weave up a 747 and put some jet fuel on our asses ASAP. Capiche? Perfecto. It’s all too confusing and confounding to commiserate with myself in reference to, which doesn’t stop me from doing just that by one iota. Tarnation, damnation, all of the above. C’mon, clips, put this loss behind us, put all the losses, all the wins, all the dreamy stares into hazy mirrors back on the back burner of inept pontification, and lets win one for the gipper in the OKC tomorrow, whoever the hell that is, the gipper I mean, and I know it was Ronald Raygun, but the other guy, the guy of which it was, can that be proscribed for inspiration. Sigh, this isn’t 1947 is it? Forget it. Aloha.