Acclaimed

I love how people describe famous columnists as "acclaimed" and "award-winning." Who exactly gives out these awards? In case you didn't know, there are two main types of news contributers in the print media. Reporters and columnists. Reporters deal with facts and current events. Columnists give their opinions.

This brings me to Bill Plashke, the "acclaimed and award-winning" columnist for the Los Angeles Times. Plashke is a veteran of the industry and has written his fair share of poigniant and interesting pieces. In this "unaward-winning" columnists opinion, the number of worthwhile stuff he's written is dwarfed by how many times he has written a bunch of crap.

Case in point, after the Utah Jazz won Game 3 against the Lakers, Plashke wrote a scathing article about center Pau Gasol, basically laying the blame for the loss solely on the Spaniard's shoulders. Sure, Gasol did not have a very good game, turning the ball over too many times and being rendered ineffective on offense. But did he really deserve that much criticism, especially after how instrumental he was in helping the Lakers get the first overall seed in the Western Conference? You all can render your own judgements on that. But what I would like to know is where a similar scathing editorial was about MVP Kobe Bryant after Game 4. Bryant appeared to hurt his back early in the game, but he's played through pain before and scored 50 points. Not this time. He shot well under 40% from the field, made only one out of ten shots from three point land, an abysmal 60% of his foul shots, and finished the game off by making one lousy field goal in the 4th quarter and overtime. Despite is apparent injury, Bryant repeatedly ignored open teammates and forced up difficult shots, on multiple occasions being easily rejected by Andrei Kirilenko. If Plashke wasn't a coward, he'd have written a similarly negative piece on Kobe.

Equally consipicuous by its absence was any mention by Plashke about a strong performance in Game 4's losing cause by Gasol, who dropped 23 points on 11-16 from the field, grabbed ten boards, and contributed to holding Utah big men Mehmet Okur and Carlos Boozer to around 40% shooting.

Have you ever gone to a fancy restaurant and gotten shitty service? You might wonder how your crappy server actually got the job there. Similarly, I wonder not only how Plashke got his job at the Times, but how he has managed to hold it for several decades.

Are there any columnists who similarly rub you the wrong way? We'd love to hear about it. Thanks for having a shot of 120 Proof.

Is that Bulls job still open???

As many basketball insiders predicted, former Phoenix Suns coach Mike D'Antoni is leaving the desert and taking over in the windy city. And who can really be surprised? They have a great young point guard in Kirk Hinrich, and some really talented younger swingmen that should be able to bring back the... he did WHAT?

Okay, now that the initial shock has worn off, let's look at this objectively. Never mind, let's look at it cynically. It's quicker that way. Why would you turn down a chance to go coach an exciting young squad that figures to only need a strong coach to return to prominence? Not that it turned out to be one of our better forecasts, but we did pick the Bulls at number 4 in our pre-season rankings. Could they possibly have been as bad as their record was this season?

Or, could it lie in the fact that Kickerbocker president Donnie Walsh reportedly promised D'Antoni that they players he wanted would be brought in and those who he didn't would be jettisoned? If this is the case, it should be funny watching everyone on that team, save for David Lee, Nate Robinson, and maybe Renaldo Balkman get cut. Can you see the broadcast next opening day? Hello everyone, this is Marv Albert. The Knicks will be playing three on five tonight, as the majority of their roster was sent packing, and they were unable to find replacements since nobody wanted to play here.

One more thing I suck at: If I took the two best games that I have ever bowled and added the scores together, I might be in that region where I sniff a 300. I would like to say this beaming with pride, but if a blind, 78-year-old WWII veteran can bowl a perfect 300, my accomplishment seriously loses some luster. Sadly, I'm not kidding and the blind guy's name is Dale 'The Hammer' Davis.

Why Eight Belles and not...: Travis Hafner. Todd Helton. Rickie Weeks. Delmon Young. What do these guys, other than being awful baseball players, have in common. They're sucking the pulse out of any shot I had of winning my fantasy baseball league this season. Together, it seems, in a real team effort, they consistently mar the few bright spots my team has managed to have. Like Geovany Soto's monster start. And the sudden emergence of Zack Greinke. That one made me look like a genius. With my top two picks (David Wright and Grady Sizemore) struggling to eclipse .270 at the plate, I can't guys like Helton (a career .300+ hitter) hovering in the mid twos anymore. Put 'em out to pasture, Joey Votto. Put 'em out to pasture.

Speaking of Eight Belles, the filly who suddenly and tragically had to be euthanized at the Kentucky Derby, is PETA going to back off the jockey and trainer sometime soon? Not that I hate the cause of ensuring decency to animals but the manner in which they behave makes me want to torture kittens and experiment on them with chemical shampoos. I'm not a doctor or anything, but something makes it very hard for me to believe that jockey, whatever the hell his name is, who probably tips the scales at a whopping four pounds, could really have done a lot to cause the legs of a five gazillion pound horse to break. So our message to PETA is this. Leave Eight Belles' crew alone. For each further statement we read about the drivel coming out of your mouths, 120 Proof will attempt a 47-yard field goal, using a squirrel as the football. Seriously, your rhetoric makes me wish I didn't understand English. Thanks for having a shot of 120 Proof.

Roger Clemens has sex with duckbilled platypi

Roger Clemens likes to have sex with women other than his wife. He also likes to have sex with the ex-wives of 120proof's favorite athletes. And now, in a report that we completely made up and carries no truth whatsoever, he likes to have sex with duckbilled platypi. "It's something about that marsupial pouch," sources close to the former pitcher never said.

For crying out loud. The Atlanta Hawks are on the verge of historic upset over the Celtics in the NBA playoffs. The Tampa Bay Rays, long one of the worst teams in baseball and a perennial laughing stock, sit atop the AL East in front of the Red Sox AND the Yankees. Somewhere Chuck Lamar is smiling. Nate McLouth, still toiling in obscurity as a Pirate, might be baseball's best all-around player whose name doesn't start with "A" and end in "lex Rodriguez." New York Rangers forward Sean Avery played an entire hockey game while internally HEMMORHAGING! Big Brown won a scintillating Kentucky Derby, which was sadly marred by the forced euthanizing of Eight Belles, the filly who broke both of her front legs in the home stretch of the race. But no. It's who and what Roger Clemens likes to screw that has the headlines. When did the world of sports turn into TMZ? We do have one question for Mr. Clemens though? Paulette Daly? Seriously? Doesn't the fact that she has shared the bed with John Daly make her lose a little bit of appeal? I don't care how hot she is, having banged J.D. is a deal breaker.

MVPeeing: Reports that Kobe Bryant has won the NBA's MVP award have been confirmed. We pee on such rediculousness. Is he the best player in the league? Sure. Would the Lakers still have made the playoffs without him? Absolutely, if you assume Pau Gasol still comes aboard. You can't say the same for Chris Paul, LeBron James, and for that matter, Dikembe Motumbo. But I digress. This is an argument I will never win.

Homer Corner: 120Proof has won a bet. This is no small feat, mind you. Usually, 120 only wins a bet when it's between Todd and myself, therefore leaving few alternatives, although we've had several ties. A second half brace from Antonio Valencia gave Wigan Athletic an impressive 2-0 away win at Aston Villa and assured the Lancashire club safety and another season in top flight English soccer. Chances are, if you read this site, you have no idea what the hell that means, so I'll cut to the meat and potatoes. 120 bet Paul the UPS driver that tiny Wigan would survive for another year and he immediately jumped at the chance. Well, he's five...uh...credits lighter for it. Booyah. Thanks for having a shot of 120 Proof.

First Pitches

The Scene: Post 911. Our country is still in a furor, regardless of whether the rage is aimed at the right target or not. But baseball goes on. Our fearless leader (for the sake of this article, imagine there being about a 20 second break while I run to the sink and puke) steps to the mound for a ceremonial first pitch. A strike. Down the middle. It was nearly like something out of a fairy tale. Even the staunchest democrat (like myself), who had long since come to the conclusion that our president was better served competing in the special olympics than manning the oval office, had to have been the tiniest bit smitten by the whole thing. Our country, and about 5000 of our people, were the victims of a brutal attack. And our freakin' president not only swore retribution, but threw a God damned strike. If that ain't something for the ole patriotic chip on the shoulder, then I don't know what the hell is.

Fast forward: March 30th, 2008. Nationals' Park, or whatever the hell they call that new baseball stadium in D.C. Dubya is to throw out the first pitch. Who made that call? Is there a more reviled individual in the States right now? Apparently not. The stadium seats slightly less than 42 thousand people, and about 80% of them were booing loudly as he took the mound. I can't tell you if his fastball down the middle, or his round booing made me smile more proudly.

And by the way, the Nats won on a walk-off homer by Ryan Zimmermann. Todd, who happens to have him as his 3rd baseman in our league, is probably proud. Either that, or playing City of Heros without a care at all. Speaking of which, that game is sick. Thanks for having a shot of 120proof.

Screwballs and Know Nothings

The Game: Fantasy Baseball

The Players:

Ted: Todd's father-in-law, and our commissioner. He rules his fantasy games the same way he ministers his congregation. WITH AN IRON FIST!!!

Todd: My drunken partner in crime. He knows more about baseball than your average blind, deaf, and dumb aboriginal bush child.

Bekka/Laura: Todd's wife and mother-in-law. Nearly didn't play out of protest that handsomeness was not a valid fantasy baseball category.

Shane: The shameless Angel fan. When there were no more Angels left to be drafted, he started picking former Angels. He nearly cried when Brian Downing refused to come out of retirement for his fantasy team.

Jon: Todd's cousin with an inexplicable mancrush on Steve Nash. Easily our cockiest player, but in fairness, the one with the longest track record of success in fantasy.

Alex the Clipper Fan: You know him. You love him. 120's original reader. Oh yeah, he hates baseball and only played on the hope that he would finish above Todd and me, and therefore have something to badger us about for life.

Torsten: Me.

The other three teams in our ten team draft were colleagues of Ted's, all of whom either elected to have the autopicker choose their team, or forgot due to Easter Brunch debauchery.

The scenario: Ted, Todd, Bekka, Laura, and I are crammed into Ted's home office, each of us hovering over a computer, fiercely protecting the monitor like the third grade geek who is afraid that the third grade bully might be trying to sneak a peek at the answers to the spelling test. Jon is at home, but he might as well have been there as he was the most active smack talker. Alex? Let's just say he was Sleepless in Seattle.

Events, conversations, and statements that should never, ever be uttered during a fantasy baseball draft:

1. The first overall pick went to one of Ted's autopicking colleagues. The Yahoo! autopicker took nearly 45 seconds to select A-Rod. This brought up eerie parallels to Geoff Garcia, who ran away with the fantasy basketball league after letting the autopicker choose his team, and logging in a grand total of one time during the season. What an ass...

2. Todd: Man, I was gonna take Joe Mauer.
Bekka: Well, Mom and me need a center.
Todd: Cen...ter???

3. Me: If J.J. Putz drops to me, I'm takin' him.
Todd: No way Putz gets to you.
Me: You seriously gonna rob me?
Todd: Yup, I'm Putzin' it.
Me: You're an ass.
Todd: Dude, every team needs a putz!
Ted: Not mine, my daughter already married one.
Todd: Kill...

4. Bekka: -groan-
Me: What? You wanted Aaron Harang?
Bekka: YES! He's totally cute!
Me: Then why didn't you complain when I picked Grady Sizemore? All the chicks love him.
Bekka: -rapid mouse clicking- Oh yeah, he's hot. Can I trade you someone for him?

5. Todd: YES!!! Smoltz!!!
Ted: He's good.
Todd: Whatever with good. I now have Putz AND Smoltz! Now if only Jenks and UGGLA fall to me too!

6. Laura: We don't have a CWS on our team yet.
Ted: Chicago White Sox is not a position or category. Merely the team he plays on.
Bekka: HAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! That was WAY worse than me calling Joe Mauer a center!

7. Todd: I'm a little light in the stolen bases department. Who's left??? Willy Taveras...Michael Bourn... KAZ MATSUI!!! YES!!! Wait. Do you think his anal fissures will affect his speed on the bases?

8. Todd: How is Curt Schilling still available?
Me: Injured. Biceps degeneration or something like that.
Todd: Is that worse than anal fissures?
Me: Unless he pitches with his ass.

9. Jon: (via draft chat) Sorry it's taking me so long to make my pics. In addition to this, I'm watching basketball, porn, and playing Wii.

10. Todd: I'm taking Wang.
Me: There are still better pitchers on the board.
Todd: Yeah, but with Putz and Wang, I have a monopoly on players whose names are synonymous with wieners. There isn't a player named Schlong, is there?

The Post Draft: After the post-draft cocktail and a smoke, it's time to hit the road. Ted and Laura walk us all out and we immediately get ambushed by Mormon missionaries. You kinda had to be there to get the full effect, but I'll do my best. Ted, Todd's dad-in-law, is actually a minister. We weren't shitting you about that. However, he has a very understated, relaxed, almost surfer-dudish manner of speech, and Todd lacks the two-second filter of, "wait, should I really say this?"

Sister Something or Other (who incidentally has the glazed over, unblinking eyes that make it look like she came straight out of Children of the Corn): So do you all enjoy a life enriched by the influence of Christ?
Ted: Oh, totally. We are WAY into Jesus.
::about five minutes of awkward conversations::
Sister Something or Other: What would it mean to you if Noah was on the Earth today as a Prophet.
Ted: Honestly, not much. I already have a boat and...well, it has a motor and stuff.
::Three more minutes of tortuous banter::
Sister Whatshername: So would you ever be interested in having missionaries come by your home and talk to you more about the Church of Jesus Christ and Latter Day Saints?
Todd: Nah. I was already in a cult once and it wasn't what I'd hoped it would be.

The 120 Proof Teams:
The Skrooballs. (me)
1B. Travis Hafner
2B. Robinson Cano
3B. David Wright
SS. JJ Hardy/Yunel Escobar
C. Geovany Soto
OF. Grady Sizemore, Hunter Pence, Josh Hamilton, Cory Hart
Util. Rick Ankiel (40 hrs or bust, baby!) Todd Helton
Bench. Ryan Garko, Billy Butler, Lastings Milledge
SP. Eric Bedard, Aaron Harang, Dice-K, Francisco Liriano
RP. Billy Wagner, Rafael Soriano, Kerry Wood, Zack Greinke.
Review: I'm pissed at how much I neglected RBIs, but hopefully Travis Hafner will have a big bounceback year. I'm also pissed because each time I wanted to take a good catcher, he was nabbed out from under me. I'm thrilled I was able to nap Ankiel, Hamilton, and Kerry Wood with my final picks. Bargains, all of them.

The Willie Mays Hayes. (Todd)
1B. Ryan Howard
2B. Brian Roberts
3B. Ryan Zimmermann
SS. Rafael Furcal
C. Victor Martinez
OF. Matt Holliday, Bobby Abreu, Jermaine Dye, Ken Griffey Jr.
Util. Frank Thomas, Carlos Delgado
Bench. Kaz Matsui, Adam Laroche, Ryan Theriot
SP. John Smoltz, Felix Hernandez, Jered Weaver, James Shields (a hidden gem), Chien Mien dick Wang
RP. JJ Putz, Chad Cordero, Jeremy Accardo
Reveiw: Not bad at all for Todd's first ever baseball draft. He's going to win homers by a landslide every week, although he'll probably take a beating in batting average. Time will only tell.

In Closing, we'll leave you with one more quote from the draft.
Bekka (to her mom): We could take Greg Zaun. He's cute.
Me: But you guys already have a center.

Thanks for having a shot of 120 Proof.

Wishes Do Come True

Nobody is happier than we are that it's been a couple weeks since anyone devoted any real time to talking about the whole Roger Clemens/Brian McNamee debacle. No "misremembering" on our parts. One thing I recall as clear as day is listening to that smug son-of-a-bitch, McNamee, defend his virtue. Seriously, this guy ranks up there with former T.O. agent, Drew Rosenhaus, on the "I really wanna punch that dude very hard" scale. Well, about a 12 pack deep and 2 hours into the "testimony", I looked at Todd and said, "Wouldn't it be great if that guy just got hit by a bus?" Todd, ever the supportive friend, responded with, "::belch:: Hell, yeah."
Apparently, he and I have been good boys, for God has smiled upon us and released vengeance in the form of a bus on Mr. Douchenamee. Fortunately, nobody on the bus was seriously injured. Unfortunately, McNamee also walked away unscathed. Looks like God might want to reconsider hiring Loki to do his dirty work.

Speaking of Gods, Lebron James has just taken over the Cleveland Cavaliers' all time scoring league. That is the 23-YEAR-OLD Lebron James who has been called a man child, high-fived by a Knicks fan on the floor at Madison Square Garden, and takes out throngs of baby seal clubbers with one swing of his manhood. Did we mention he's 23? The scoring record used to be held by Brad Daugherty, who is somewhere between 40 and 87 years old.

Less than 48 hours to go until 120 Proof makes its first annual foray into the world of fantasy baseball. Todd and I will both be drafting our own teams. If you've been keeping up with us, and judging by the throngs of advertisers knocking down our doors, you might actually have been, you'll remember Todd's admission that he knew very little about who was good to draft, save of course for the obvious big names. Then, he hits me with this the other day.

Todd: Did you know that Tom Selleck led the Yankees in ninth inning doubles in the month of August in that movie, Mr. Baseball?
Me: I vaguely remember... actually, no, I had no clue. What does that have to do with...
Todd: Just preparing for the draft.
Me: Uh, but Tom...Selleck... isn't...
Todd: Have you seen his mustache lately? He might be a five-category contributor.
Me: O...kay...

It hit me about four hours later. Todd wouldn't be using terms like "five-category contributor" if he hadn't been reading up. Judging by how fantasy basketball has gone so far, I wouldn't be shocked to finish 4 or 5 spots behind him...and his wife...and his mother-in-law.

Speaking of Todd: You thought we might have been kidding about the poems and odes to crappy Clipper point guards, right? Unfortunately for you, we weren't. Here's his latest work, in tribute to Daniel Ewing, he of the 2 second playoff appearance, which was just long enough for him to leave Raja Bell open to ruin the Clippers' playoff run in '06.

There once was a guard from Nantucket.
Who couldn't put a ball in a bucket.
People would stare,
As he got nothing but air,
But he'd shrug and continue to huck it.

That's Pulitzer quality shit right there, people. Maya Angelou just came a little. Thanks for having a shot of 120 Proof.

Nuts in a Bunch

By now, you've probably all heard about poor Chicago Cubs outfielder Felix Pie (pee-AY), and his battle with a twisted testicle.  Nope, we're not talking about an evil family jewel.  We're talking about a gonad resembling a Twizzler.  And yes, this is a recognized malady, officially known as testicular torsion. And furthermore, it did require what Cubs spokespeople called a "minor corrective surgery."  120 is happy to report that Pie is recovering well, and should be back in the Cubs' lineup next week, although he's probably getting tired of people opening their peeAY-holes about it.

Our Take:  Minor surgery?  On a nut???  First of all, anything involving something as sharp as a scalpel being in close proximity to the jewel pouch is far from minor.  Especially if the condition, if untreated, can cause chronic cock n' balls pain, gangrene (of the dick!!!!???), and vanishing testis (holy SHIT!!!), not to mention a lifetime of ignominy in the form of taunts from friends and family.  Minor... yeah, you're ASS it's minor. 

Our Take, Part 2:  If this happened to any of us, God forbid, we'd lie to our friends about it.  I mean, wouldn't we?  Hey, Phil!  Wanna go play some golf?  Sorry, Jack. I twisted a testicle the other day.  Takin' it easy for a bit.  Hell no, people!  It would definitely be something more like, Sorry, Jack.  Strained a muscle the other day.  I better keep it chill for a few days.So why on Earth did the Cubs out Pie like that?  If we were him, we'd be pretty pissed.  They should have published his injury as a "lower body anomaly" or something vague like that.  What jerks!

Thank you sir, may I have another!?:  Not to be outdone in the effed up injury department, Houston Astros infielder Kazuo Matsui might miss the opening to season due to unnatural tears (gulp) in the anal skin, aka, anal fissures. After rest failed to promote recovery, Matsui will have surgery to correct the problem next week. "It's something we need to take care of," said Astros GM, Ed Wade.

Our Take: No shit, Sherlock. If I had fissures in my anus, other than the one God intended to be there, I'd want to get it taken care of too. On a funny note, wikipedia lists Carmex lip ointment/herpes balm as one of the topical treatment options. Which begs the question, why isn't "anal fissures" listed right there on the Carmax tube with all the other things it treats? I think it would fit nicely right next to "dry, chapped lips." Carmex. Your number one, over the counter treatement for cold sores, chapped lips, and ruptured asshole skin. I should be in advertising...

Hard Times on the Hard Court: Earlier this week, the Los Angeles Clippers announced the signing of point guard Smush Parker, who had been waived by the Heat. Todd has a theory that the Clippers are playing some joke on the basketball world by trying to have every crappy point guard in the World on their roster at least once. Rick Brunson, Jason Hart, Dan Dickau, and now Smush? Watch out, Clipper fans! The Sonics released Ira Newble!!!

Anyway, Todd morosely told me he was considering writing a small compilation of haikus and poems as an ode to the legacy of shitty Clipper guards. I think this is a great idea. I'll start.

Roses are red. Violets are blue. Dan Dickau sucks. So does Smush Parkeroo. Thanks for having a shot of 120 Proof.

Love Is Complicated

People claim to be "lovers" of all kinds of things; Sports, alcohol, children, collectibles of all sorts. Even animals. Well, if Tripp Isenhour is to believed, his intentional braining of a migratory hawk with a golf ball was out of love. He is, after all, a self-proclaimed animal lover. Todd and I would like to take this opportunity to address the wife and girlfriend, kindly refrain from using love as a motivator the next time the urge to emasculate us with a prison shank arises.

In one of our drunken brainstorming sessions, we at 120 decided that perpetual failure would be one of our calling cards. So we figured, what better way to do that than join a fantasy baseball league!? The conversation went something like this.

Todd: Hey, my father in law is running a fantasy baseball league. Do you want to play?
Torsten: Hell yeah! That will be fun.
Todd: You probably have to help me a little. Baseball isn't really my forte. Aside from LaDanian Thomlinson being the top pick, I don't know much.
Torsten: Moron. L.T. first? That's BASKETBALL!

Anyway, ought to be fun. Todd and I will each be piloting our own team to effectively double our chances at miserable failure. The live draft is about three weeks from now and, as of this moment, we plan to document it here on 120 with a semi-live diary.

Back to business, we at 120 like to brag when we're right, especially since it doesn't happen all that often. But I think sufficient time as passed to respond to an email from Alex the Clipper Fan. It read something like, "Dude, the Lakers suck. Now that the Suns have Shaq, they're gonna make the Lakers their bitches!"

Sadly, no amount of me telling Alex that Shaq was a fat, over-the-hill, lazy, also ran at this point in his career would convince him. Well, Alex, maybe the fact that the Suns are 3-5 since the Big Douchebag's acquisition, and have plummeted from the top spot in the West to 6th place will remove your Laker-hatred blinders. Now, the Suns still have a good chance of making the playoffs, but the Western Conference is stacked. But if they don't, going from tops in the conference to missing the post-season all together would have to rank among the greatest collapses in recent memory, especially considering they will have done it to themselves.

All-Universe guard Steve Nash still thinks the Suns will be fine. He says the team still needs to "amalgamate" Shaq into their style of play. Amalgamate? On second thought, let us tell you what he really meant. I can't believe we traded one of the best players in the league for this fat slob. The Lakers get Gasol for a couple of picks, a pack of smokes, and a white-trash Barbie doll but we give up Marion for the Big Amalgamator. What...the...@#$%. But I guess, that as the leader of this team, I can't let him know how we really feel, especially since he could crush me between his thumb and forefinger. So I'll just use big words like "amalgamate."

Amalgamate? Well, if we don't know what the hell that means, there ain't no way that a guy who thought the Parthenon was a nightclub will have any idea either. Thanks for amalgamating 120proof into your day. We'll amalgamate you again soon. In the meantime, we're off to amalgamate some alcohol into our diets.

Flying Pigs

We've all heard the statement, "When pigs fly," as sort of a sardonic response to someone suggesting an unlikely event may occur. Out here in sunny Southern Cali, that statement has been replaced with, "When Mitch Kupchak makes a shrewd front office move." Well, it looks like we might have to retire that statement. The formerly embattled Laker GM has slowly won over some of the L.A. faithful with the realization that not trading the emerging Andrew Bynum for Jason Kidd was actually the right call. If the reports on espn.com and Yahoo! that the Lakers have acquired Pau Gasol from the Grizzlies for Kwame "Stone Hands" Brown, talented rookie Javaris Crittendon, a couple of picks, a pack of Marlboro Mediums, and some quarters for the Adams Family pinball machine are true, Kupchak will immediately be elevated to Stephen Hawking status. See, basketball fans have short memories, and purple and gold supporters will be happy to forget the bungling ineptness of the past few years for a chance at a title now. I have to admit, I did splooge a little at the thought of a Bynum, Gasol, Lamar Odom, Kobe Bryant, and Derek Fisher starting lineup. I can't wait for Kobe's comments on this.

Moving on, how bad does your life suck when a 92-year-old blind dude is a better golfer than you? Seriously, there are plenty of things a 92-year-old blind dude could own me at. For example, a fill-your-colostomy bag race, canasta, and number of friends named Vern. But golf? While staring at an empty glass this morning, trying to think of reasons other than porn and ranch-flavored Doritos to keep on trucking, I stumbled onto the story of good old Leo Fiyalko. Thanks, Leo. I needed to feel worse about life.

Who knew? Chris Berman has a potty mouth! This is apparently from a 2000 Monday Night Football pre-game or something. But I only just saw it. That reminds me of the time my parents were filming my sixth birthday party. GOD DAMN IT! I'M TRYING TO BLOW OUT SOME F***ING CANDLES HERE! HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO CONCENTRATE WITH 8 F***ING PEOPLE SINGING IN MY EAR AND DANCING AROUND. CAN I GET SOME GOD DAMN QUIET HERE? SIX F***ING CANDLES! HOW BIG DO YOU THINK MY LUNGS ARE? I GOT UNCLE STEVE BACK THERE ACTING LIKE AN ASS. HAVEN'T YOU PEOPLE EVER BEEN ON A CAMCORDER BEFORE? GOD DAMN IT!

Thanks for having a shot of 120Proof.

What do Torsten from 120, Alex the Clipper Fan, and Scott Skiles have in common?

John Paxson: Merry Christmas, Scott!
Scott Skiles: Why thanks, John! Same to you!
John Paxson: You're fired.
Scott Skiles: What? No present?
John Paxson: Here. Directions to the unemployment office.

Our Take: Here at 120, we're seriously wondering what must be going through Scott Skiles' head right now.

"Wait a minute? You guys are the morons who wouldn't trade Luol Deng for Kobe Bryant but I'M the one getting canned? You guys are the imbeciles that refused to trade for Pau Gasol, giving us a desperately needed inside scoring presence but I'M the one getting the pink slip? You're the one who thought it would be a good idea to ship off the monstrously talented Tyson Chandler and invest a king's ransom in an aging and offensively challenged Ben Wallace but I'M getting the boot? Our two arguably all-star quality guards are shooting an appallingly poor 38% and change from the floor but I'M the one not pulling my weight? Oh well, at least the rest of my multi-gajillion dollar contract ought to cover a nice bottle of Macallan 18."

Whether or not Skiles feels hard done by, it seems to us to be the consensus that a change in coaches is probably the last thing that may be the answer for the Bulls. Was Skiles without fault? Of course not. He continued to trot an inneffective Wallace out for way too many minutes game after game even though Joakim Noah and, shockingly, Aaron Gray have played noticeably better. He rewarded human highlight reel Tyrus Thomas's 14 point, 6 rebound, 3 block, 2 steal performance on December 19th against Washington with a combined 22 minutes the next two games, both losses. The talented and athletic Thabo Sefolosha barely sees the floor, even when the veterans/stars are struggling. But hey, can you really blame a guy for believing that his well-paid star players will pull out of their slumps? If you ask us, not really. But let's take a look at it from the teams' perspective. Might they have done the right thing? Doubtful, but we'll see.

To break it down to the bare bones, to make a coaching change, a team has to believe it can do better with someone else in charge. Otherwise, they're taking a situation that may already be bad and making it worse. So the question remains, is there someone better than Skiles available? We'll let you be the judge of that. Just kidding. We'll be our own judges, thank you very much. You just read. Is that so hard?

Larry Brown: Well, he has some fairly impressive notches in his belt from an accomplishment standpoint. But does anyone really want the NBA's version of Bobby Petrino running a team with a very young core and in dire need of solid leadership? Sure, he'll yell and scream at the team about fundamentals and teamwork, and probably throw in a bit of nonsense about chemistry. But if we're the Bulls, we're looking elsewhere. The last thing we'd need is for him to call it quits after half a season to go coach in Israel or something.

Jeff Van Gundy: In the ultimate "pot calling the kettle black" moment, Van Gundy, who is known for his plodding, molasses in January, half-court offenses, said that this Bulls team needs to run more. Yeah. Someone check him for Creutzfeld's Disease.

Mike Fratello: Took an awful team in Memphis and made it...well, more awful. It's hard to re-create Gone With The Wind with the cast of Friends, so we can't file him in the useless bin yet. But at this time, we're still looking elsewhere.

Hubie Brown: Probably the most knowledgeable of the candidates out there. But at his age, the last thing the Bulls need is for him to drop dead of a coronary mid-season. "We traded Tyson Chandler for WHO???"

Rick Carlisle: See, now we're thinking. He's stubborn enough to not pay attention to what the papers say, and has a vastly bigger ego than his players (see: Jackson, Phil), which is what a team with several potential superstars needs. However, he is also stubborn enough to openly defy his boss and get fired over it. He's also stupid enough to openly defy his boss about playing Tayshaun Prince, whom you could potentially make an argument for that he's the Pistons' best player without sounding like a complete idiot. Nah, we're still searching.

Rudy Tomjanovich: A personal favorite of ours. Granted, his less-than-ideal health may preclude him from the demands of an NBA coaching job, but he certainly has the track-record. We're starting to get warmer now aren't we? So why are we still not convinced? Oh yeah, that whole poor health thing again. Damn.

Michael Cooper: Have you stopped laughing yet? Good, now put down your drinks and listen. Never mind, pick the drinks back up but still listen. Although Coop has no prior head coaching experience in the NBA, he led the WNBA's Sparks to... I said stop laughing. Seriously. Anyway, many including Charles Barkley have openly campaigned for giving Cooper an opportunity as a head coach. He's bright, and comes from a background of hardwork, defense, and lights-out perimeter shooting. Can you think of a better candidate to coach a team whose defense has slipped from number one in efficiency rating to tenth in the league, and whose guards all of a sudden can't scratch 40% from the floor? Not to mention all that bling he accumulated playing for Pat Riley (who incidentally appears to be inching toward unemployment himself) and with the likes of Magic, Worthy, and Kareem in the Showtime era. Ding, ding, ding, we may have a winner.

In closing: Correct us if we're wrong, but haven't the Bulls gotten off to three abysmal starts to a season in a row and still recovered to make the playoffs in each one? Hmmmm. Whoever lands the gig may end up looking like a genius, especially if the players start actually, oh we don't know, playing well. If we missed a candidate who you think is a good fit and want to yell at us about it, let us know. In the meantime, happy holidays and thanks for having a shot of 120 Proof.

Chris Simon is a pussy

Hey!!! We're back!!! Sort of. Leave it to us, from the safety of our computers, to threaten one of hockey's most notorious goons. Once respected for his toughness, not to mention the ability to score the occasional goal between brawls, Chris Simon has been reduced to bitch status here at 120. Allow us to explain.

Once upon a time, the Islanders forward was a real tough guy. He would stand up for his teammates, take on any opponent like a man. Mano a mano. The ice hockey way. Now, he's little more than an insecure little bitch. That's right, Simon. You've been called a beyotch.

Last season, it was a brutal slash to the head of Ryan Hollweg. Who's that? Good question. I think he's an Oiler. This season, Jarkko Ruutu. A viscious stamp on the ankle with his skate.

If you have a tough enough stomach, because we won't link to it (again), youtube "Clint Malarchuk" and "skate to the jugular" if you're curious what an ice hockey skate can do to a man.

There's a supposed code among the NHL's tough guys. Once a guy is down, don't hit him anymore. No eye gouging. Stuff of that sort. Apparently, the code does not include, "No stomping on a competitor's ankle in an attempt to sever his foot from his leg while he's not looking."

Fellow tough guys Donald Brashear and George Laraque, two of the best and most respected fighters in the NHL, once gave Simon the compliments of being one of the hardest punchers and toughest guys in the league. So what reduces a man who earns such complements from his peers to a mere cheap shot artist? Who knows?

Anyway, at 120, we have the answer. We, Chris Simon, challenge you to a fight. Sure, there are two of us. But we're both wussies when it comes to fighting, and a bit on the pudgy side. But hey, maybe if you can take us, it will keep you from acting like a freaking pansy on the ice. At 6 foot 3 and 220 lbs, you'd think you wouldn't have to resort to such tactics. So man up, Chris. Take us on. The only catch is, we get to use a stick like you used to crack Hollweg in the brain, and a blade roughly the length of a hockey skate to cut your achilles heel with.

And I guarantee you, after we kick your ass, we'll be able to come up with a better apology than, "I want to apologize to everyone involved." If I can do better than that after barfing on the girlfriend's shoes after our anniversary dinner, you should certainly be able to after trying to end a guy's career.

Editor's note: We really hope that Chris Simon never sees this and doesn't take us up on our challenge. Although we firmly believe that he's a bitch-ass, piece of crap for his actions, he's still way bigger than we are. But on that note, would he really have uttered the same racial epithet that he did to Mike Grier (who, yes ladies and gentlemen, is black) to...say... Shaq? Probably not. So yeah, the consensus over here is that he's still a punk. Whom we don't really want to fight. But we will. If we have to. Or maybe we'd run. Ah, hell with it. He is, after all, a giant pansy, right?

Tale of the Tape

Fighting out of the Blue corner. Standing 6 feet and 11 inches tall. Weighing in at an impressive 270 pounds. The former first overall pick in the NBA draft. Kwame...... BROOOOOOOOWWWWN! And fighting out of the Red corner. Also standing 6 feet and 11 inches tall. But weighing in at a slightly less impressive 265 pounds. Dwiiiiiiggghhht... HOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here at 120, we've been wondering something. If you put Kwame and Dwight next to each other, you wouldn't really notice much of a physical difference between them. In fact, since Kwame is 5 pounds heavier and visibly yoked, you could argue that Kwame is in fact slightly more buff than Dwight. So how the hell is it that one guy is at or near the top of the league in scoring, field goal percentage, rebounds, blocks, groupies banged after the game, and has more than twice as many dunks this season as the duo who was tied for second (Andrew Bynum and Chris Wilcox) before yesterday's Lakers vs. Magic game. And the other guy averages a 120 Proofian 5 points and 5 boards a game, and wouldn't know how to dunk a donut into a cup of chocolate milk. Physically, the two are virtually identical. They shoot free throws with equal diabolicy. Neither has particularly soft hands, and both could use a little smoothing around the edges as far as the finer points of the game go. Well, we'll tell you. And it's also the exact same reason why Kwame is a fixture on the 120 Proof list of....favorite....120 Proof...dudes.... or at least he will be if we ever get off our asses and make such a list. Hard work. He's completely opposed to it. And so are we. I mean, who really wants to be the next (and skinnier) Shaquille O'Neal when you can rake in 9 million a year to do things like wing birthday cake at a Lamar Odom fan?

The following is not funny. We pride ourselves on being pretty much bottom-of-the-barrel when it comes to tact and standards. But not even we can sink to a level low enough to find humor in this. As we're sure you all know, Washington Redskins' defensive back Sean Taylor was tragically shot to death in his home last week, by four dudes who should really have their nuts cut off and fed to them. But that's beside the point. In one of the more poignant tributes a team has ever given to a fallen comrade, the Skins started their first defensive series playing with only ten men, metaphorically giving Taylor one last play on his beloved football field. Here at 120, that's what we call "Good Shit."

Normally, we'd make a tasteless joke here about drinking beer with an empty bottle accross the table in tribute if either Todd or I die prematurely. Then we looked at the table and saw 14 empty bottles of various domestic piss. And besides, it's unnecessary to take anything at all away from what amounts to a tremendous and touching gesture, for Taylor, his family, his memory, and the fans who loved to cheer for him.

Apparently they're dropping like flies. ESPN reports that New York Knicks' guard Stephon Marbury's father passed away during the Knicks' loss to Phoenix on Sunday night, shortly after leaving Madison Square Garden with chest pains. This is only the latest in what has been a tough year for Marbury, with the death of his aunt earlier this year, embarrassing testimony about banging an intern in the back of a truck, fans booing him lustily at home, but now this? The most unfortunate thing here is that Marbury continued to play, completely unaware that his dad was ill. Apparently, he didn't take it too seriously when his dad said, "If I see you huck one more three instead of passing to the open cutter in the lane, it will be the death of me." There's no truth to the rumor that the dad's of Antoine Walker and Ron Artest are being watched more closely to....what? Ron Artest's daughter has kidney cancer!? What the hell!? We can't make fun of a guy who's daughter has cancer! Come on, God!!! Throw us a bone here!! Thanks for having a shot of 120 Proof. No, God, not you. Our fans. Or fan, as it may be. Although if God wanted to join us for a shot, who would we be to refuse?

Turning Back the Clock

In this day of digital connectedness, have we lost our cherished ability to connect on a face-to-face level with our peers, the common man? Nothing demonstrates this atrocity more than the current state of fantasy sports. With Yahoo!, Sportsline, Rotowire, and a billion other sites doing live web drafts, why bother trying to get between 8 and 12 of your buddies together in a living room when you can all sit in the comforts of your own home, in front of your own computer, with your own porn? We'll tell you why.

In our recent Bush League fantasy draft, we did it the old fashioned way. Pencil and paper. It was like a Moose Lodge convention. Lots of drinking at a rediculouly early hour. Lots of bragging, lieing, and exaggerating exploits with the fairer sex. But most of all, lots of thundering guffaws from a group of guys, many of whom had never met each other before that day, laughing at shit that could only be funny between the very oldest of old friends.

It was like a poker game. Except that the stakes weren't chips. They were the priceless statistics of hallowed athletes who we'll likely never meet, and that wouldn't give us the time of day anyway should we ever get the opportunity. And instead of playing cards, each participant was equipped with some version of a fantasy top 100 list, and a hand-scrawled personal list of sleepers that they guarded with a fierceness only before seen in a battle over the last bottle of Bud. We didn't write legibly enough to read ours anyway, so our sleeper list defense resembled Matt Carroll in the post. This was in direct contrast to the guy who brought his complete, tier by tier itinerary complete with pie charts and player efficiency rating prospectus. No doubt, he's the one gunning for the corner office.

The beauty of the face-to-face draft is that you can develop so many subplots. Think of the drinking game possibilities! If we had instituted a rule stipulating that every time a person tries to draft someone already off the board, they do a shot of Jack Daniel's, we would have been as trashed as... well, we were that trashed anyway.

Whether or not level of inebriation had anything to do with this, the most profound moment of the draft occurred in the 15th and final round. By this time, everyone's top 100 list, sleeper list, power point presentation, and any other lexicon or form of cheat sheet was completely crossed off. At this point, we're all just searching our brains for names that sound like they may belong to active NBA player. This is when the following exchange occurred:

Billy, you're on the clock!
Uh... okay. Tim Thomas?
Already taken.
Um, Boris Diaw?
Taken.
Crap. Cuttino Mobely?
Gone.
Jesus. Shaq?

What followed was a 9 second period of defeaning silence, complete with confused eye-blinking and replete with awestruckedness. Shaq had just gone in the final round of a fantasy basketball draft. At the 9 second mark of the aforementioned silence, the sentences, "Shaq in the 15th round?" and "What an awful pick!" were simultaneously exlaimed.

We all realized something then. An era was gone. It was an era that started what seems like a lifetime ago but passed in what seemed like the blink of an eye. The most dominant player in NBA History has been relegated to final round fantasy fodder, to being the butt end of jokes by pundits and lush know-it-alls like ourselves. Some of it is simply the toll of aging. Some of it is his own doing. To paraphrase the great comedian, Louis C.K., no doctor will tell you that the formula for your ideal body weight is to take your age and add 300.

Next year, Shaq will likely not be drafted in our league. And next year, we will probably succumb to the allure of drafting on line, in our own home, in our own chairs, in front of our own computers, with our own porno.

Numbers and Stuff: Here's something we've always found amusing about fantasy sports. For thousands of years, men have found things to argue about, and most of the time, it's about whose whatever is bigger and better. Whose religion, whose country, whose johnson, whose wife or girlfriend, or whose car are all manly things to argue about and in certain cases (see: johnson) acceptable to go to war over. But thanks to fantasy, all the shit-talking we do is about numbers. Statistics. My numbers are better than yours. My imaginary team's free throw shooting percentage is better than yours. And we argue. Who coulda made what shot to win what category and what have you. Well, even if we assume all things are equal here, can we at least make the statistical categories more interesting? Here's a few examples.

Currently, Stephon Marbury leads the league in walking out on his team AND left hooks to his coach's jaw. If those were legit categories, can you imagine how elated the lucky son of a gun would be who drafted him?

And in football, Broncos running back Travis Henry leads all professional athletes in children out of wedlock. Henry has reportedly fathered nine children by nine different women. Shouldn't there be an award for a record so stunning? THAT is what I call putting the kids first, folks. Hey, any financial advisor would tell you to diversify your stock portfolio. Shouldn't you do the same with the mothers of your kids? Think about it. With so many mothers out there drowning, beating, and perpetrating other atrocities on their children, don't you significantly improve your chances of landing a good mom by having a whole bunch of different ones? The fantasy benefit here, should this have been a legitimate category, would be negligible though. Because while he's running away with this category, he severely hurts you by paying child support on only 7 of them, a woeful 77%. That leaves a whopping 23% of his kids unsupported, which is coincidentally the same percentage of the work our day jobs require from us that we've managed to complete. So thanks for stopping by and having a shot of 120 Proof.

Thanks for having a shot of 120 Proof.

Leading the League in Nine Categories of Alcoholism

[The following was submitted by Torsten the Great, just before he slipped into alcohol-induced siezures.]

Week one of the inaugural 120 Proof kicks everyone's ass at fantasy basketball season has officially ended, with Carlos's Boozers (That's us, morons) creaming our feeble opposition six categories to two. After looking at our roster, and seeing Kobe Bryant, Carlos Boozer, Emeka Okafor, Chris Bosh, and Deron Williams, it honestly amazed us that the other participants didn't immediately demand a re-draft. A second glance at our roster gave us the answer.

The Sophomore Suck: Certain rules in fantasy draft go without saying. For example, one of this year's rules would have been not to draft any rookie whose name doesn't have some combination of the words "Kevin" and "Durant." But the slightly less obvious ones ought to be stated, don't you think? For example, 99.9% of second year players should be avoided like a New Delhi ghetto hooker with leprosy. Look no further than Rajon Rondo; when your job description reads something like, "Feeding the ball to Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce and Ray Allen whilst playing in the Eastern Conference," you would think he'd struggle less than an armless man flipping burgers at Mickey D's. The reality of the matter is, if it wasn't for breathing, he'd be good at nothing.

We'd also like to suggest the following pamphlet be sent out to all fantasy basketball, or any fantasy sport for that matter, players: The Fantasy Fatass Bulletin. After all, aren't we entitled to know which players have spent the off-season competing in Michelin Tire Man look-alike contests? Those of us who drafted Nene Hilario and then tuned in excitedly to the Nuggets home opener would probably rather have been spared the following exchange between the announcers:

“And here comes Nene checking into the game.”
“Looks like he’s put on some weight in the offseason.”
“Yeah, he sure likes to live the life of a superstar back in Brazil in the summer.”
“Looks like they’re going to throw it into Nene in the post. And he gets his shot blocked by Johan Petro! Oh! And again he gets swatted by Petro!”
“Really looks like he’s having trouble getting his fat ass above the rim, doesn’t it?”

Speaking of Nene, here's the semi-humorous way in which he ended up on our team. Todd was our representative at the draft while I was doing the grunt work research online. We communicated by phone.

Todd: Hey, we're up in two picks. Who do you think we should get? What about Nene?
Torsten: Dude, Nene is awful. Peja is available. I know he's hurt a lot but he's good when he plays.
Todd: I don't know, man. Nene's good for some points and rebounds.
Torsten: Nene is good for nothing. If you want rebounds, get David Lee. I gotta go take a crap. Call you back in five.
::Fast forward five minutes::
Todd: Hello?
Torsten: Hey bro. Who'd we get?
Todd: Nene.
::gunshots::

And since all genius fantasy draft decisions are apparently made in threes, you didn't think we were done yet, did you? Well, things were getting a bit thin in the later rounds when Todd and I realized we were relying a bit too much on Deron Williams to carry the worthless Rondo at the point guard position. As much as I'd like to blame Todd for this, Mike Conley ending up on our team was squarely on the shoulders of yours truly. A minor confusion with Acie Law XXXXLCI, or something like that, actually led to a brief moment of optimism that we may have landed a steal there. This morning, Todd told me that Conley is actually behind Kyle Lowry on the Memphis point guard depth chart. Kyle Lowry. Kyle effin Lowry. Lowry is actually owned in negative 5% of Yahoo! Leagues, but he does happen to be tied for the league lead in eyeballs. And pancreases.

The other side: After such a promising start, 120 Proof's fantasy football domination hit a brick wall. Although in fairness, when your opponent sports Adrian Peterson, Terrell Owens, Joseph Addai, and Jamal Lewis, who combined for a total of 10 touchdowns, might as well bend over and take it like... an unwilling man. Current record: 5-4.

Patting ourselves on the back: If you read our NBA forecast from last week, and judging by our site hits you didn't, we pretty much got it all right. And if you don't think I'm gonna bring up the Deron Williams forecast about 7 months from now, you're delusional.

Homer Corners:

The Lakers: I must say, after being the only one this side of Sweden picking the Lakers to scratch enough wins together to sneak a playoff spot, having them go 2-2 against four teams with a combined total of 4 losses is strangely soothing; especially after all of the ridicule I had to endure from 120 Proof reader Alex the Clipper fan and resident guaranteer of seals about how they wouldn't win 20 games.

Da Bulls: Todd would normally contribute here, but he's busy shivering, huddled in the fetal position after his beloved Bulls have failed to garner even one win in the season's first week. I'd tell him not to worry since Dallas, last season's holders of the best regular season record, started 0-4, but it's amusing watching him suffer. That's a little thing I like to call karmic justice for drafting Nene while I'm on the ferguson.

Thanks for having a shot of 120 Proof.

Power Drinkings

Why on Earth would we at 120 do an NBA Power Rankings article?  Seriously. It's not as if we consider ourselves legit or anything.  But seriously, this NBA Summer can only be described as a Jerry Springer episode.  Kevin Garnett switched conferences, Kobe failed (so far) in his attempt to flee Lakerland, followed by the knock-down-drag out saga of MSG vs. Anucha Browne-Sanders, the tragic death of Eddie Griffin, and finally, the apparent return to prominence of the USA national team. 

Now, we'll admit it.  We're really only writing this because we've seen other power rankings articles pop up on various sports sites, and we have an inferiority complex.  That, and those that have written them so far have put such an appalling lack of effort/research into them, that even on two jugs of Carlo Rossi our insight should look Einsteinian. 

Take this article by Mark Stein of ESPN.com.  Not that the Lakers are championship material by any stretch, but to have them ranked behind both Milwaukee and the Bobcats can only be explained in one way. 

Hmmmm, who should I put at 18. How about the Bobcats! For an embryonic franchise, they've really shown signs of... embryonic... why do I suddenly feel like I'm missing something? Embryonic. Embryos come from semen, semen comes from sex with ugly white women, sex with ugly white... KOBE ! Dammit! How did I forget the Lakers?! Ah, screw it. I'll just slot them in at 19 and maybe no one will notice.

And one more thing.  In an attempt to delay the inevitable fistfight over who should be number 2 instead of 3, Todd and I will be doing this via reverse order and process of elimination.  Vodka anyone?

The Popov:  Hey, there may not be an Oden or Durant to hope for this year, but I'm sure that won't do much to stop the tanking after a couple months for these teams.

30. Portland Trail Blazers

The Good News:  Not much.  Winning the draft lottery and getting Greg Oden, only to lose him to microfracture surgery for the season is kind of like giving us a Finlandia and Tonic, only to yank it out of our hands before we can drink it.  On the bright side, they're our favorite to get the most ping pong balls in next year's lottery, and might very well have the luxury of going into the future sporting back-to-back first overall picks.
The Bad News:  They traded their most productive player, the top pick is shelved for the year,  and the state of Oregon is sorely lacking in good bars.   As young teams are prone to do, they'll struggle mightily. With all the young talent on the roster, and another top five pick likely on the way, they'll be very good one day.  It just won't be this day.  18-64

29. Sacramento Kings

The Good News: Well, nothing. This once-proud franchise continues to dissolve, as a clear leader at PF hasn’t been established between Shareef Abdur-Rahim and the reprehensible Kenny Thomas. After multiple attempts to give him away, the team continues to be stuck with ticking time bomb Artest, and Mike Bibby is coming off an awful year and rumors that the team would have been happy to trade him for Jason Kidd. Well, at least they drafted an unathletic white guy named Spencer Hawes and signed Mikki Moore.
The Bad: Well, outside of Kevin Martin not completely sucking, the team continues to wear purple, and most of the cheerleaders and Mike Bibby continue to look like Bea Arthur.
AIDS Epidemic News: Not only did the Kings draft the second coming of Shawn Bradley, but he comes equipped with a history of knee problems. Did I mention he’ll be Greg Oden’s Halo 3 partner this season? Hey, hot tip: If you're scouting for a professional team, and you're looking at a prospect who's already had microfracture surgery on his knee at 14, you might wanna keep lookin'. By the way, who the hell gets microfracture surgery at age 14, anyhow? Is that even legal? You know, my nephew had a real promising pitching career ahead of him before he went in for Tommy John surgery at eight. Never did throw the same… 19-63

28. Indiana Pacers

The Good News:  Well, they still have Jermaine O'Neal.  But that's kind of like saying, "Well, we still have a case of Heineken." at the party after the free-loaders already downed all the Grey Goose and Stella.  They'll likely trade him before the deadline for picks and/or prospects.
The Bad News:  Larry Bird is essentially the white Isaiah Thomas, minus the sexual harrassment and stuff.  We understand the whole "overhaul the roster and remake the image of the franchise" deal.  But is it necessary to pick up two of the worst contracts in basketball (see Junior Dunleavy and Troy Murphy) and alienate the one star-quality player on your team in the process?  Record-wise, they may not finish as bad as we have them, but they've free-fallen since the Reggie days.
The Interesting Possibility News:  Somewhere out there, some genius GM is plotting a three team trade involving Indiana and New York where he nets David Lee and Jeff Foster, just so he can ensure that nobody on the other team ever grabs a single rebound.  Somebody PLEASE make this happen.  20-62.

27. Minnesota Timberwolves

The Good News:  You can't really say that there's a lot of good in trading your franchise player away.  But hey, despite waiting at least one year too long to make this trade, they still got decent return for KG in the form of Al Jefferson, one of the game's rising young stars and a devastating post presence.  Also, if you buy into the "Defense Wins Championships" mantra, they did well to nab Corey Brewer in the draft.
The Bad News:  When you win only 32 games WITH one of the best players of this generation, and then trade him in the off-season, you usually don't improve.  The acquisition of Juwan Howard, who was last good in the Clinton administration, was questionable at best.  Lastly, no team with Kevin McHale making the decisions will ever have any measurable success.  He's like the white Isaiah Thomas.  Wait, I already used that one for Larry Bird?  Crap.  Okay, he's basketball's version of Matt Millen.
The Are You Kidding Me News:  Now, nobody on the T-Wolves will admit this, but they drafted a guy in the second round named Chris Richard, and it appears they did so because Mark Madsen faces spending the first part of the season on IR due to an injury.  Let me get this straight.  You spent a second round pick on a guy to make up for the loss of Mark effin Madsen?  Never mind trading KG but losing Mark Madsen???  That's gonna be the real reason they finish with one of the league's worst records this season, you wait and see.  Their record will be worse than Indiana's but they get a bonus points because their young guns will get a lot of experience.  22-60.

26. Memphis Grizzlies

The Good News:  Juan Carlos Navarro was an absolute steal, and offers the added benefit of being Pau Gasol's close buddy from the Spanish national team.  Plus, the Darko Milicic signing was probably the bargain of the offseason.  At the very least, he'll be a shot-blocking, rebounding machine in the paint.  At best... well, let's be realistic.  But there's no reason to believe that he shouldn't be mentioned in the same sentence as Shawn Marion and Andrei Kirilenko when it comes to defensive prowess.  This is the year he proves it.
The Bad News:  They still suck.  Teams were knocking down their door at the trade deadline last season about acquiring Gasol.  When healthy, Gasol is a complete player, and would likely be considered a superstar if he got more exposure.  But he's injury prone and slight, so all that banging he does in the post virtually guarantees him of missing portions of every season.  Now, if Memphis can just get Milicic to do all that banging for him...
Coincidental News:  Imagine Darko about a foot shorter, with a bit more of a sloped forehead (think Geico Caveman without the beard), and a mean streak, and you get Nemanja Vidic, Manchester United's bruising and brilliant central defender and noted cheap shot artist.  24-58.
 
25. Los Angeles Clippers

The Good News:  Well, they drafted pretty well.  Al Thornton is an athletic, 6’8” wing with wide shoulders who can clean the glass; basically, the Clips are replacing Corey Maggette before he bolts.  They also drafted a promising, if undersized, point guard in Jared Jordan and promptly traded him to New York for an undersized point guard named Dan Dickau who isn’t the least bit promising.
The Bad News:  The Clippers entered the offseason as headless horsemen with Shawn Livingston’s leg looking like a scene from Hostel and Sam Cassell on life support.  In the ensuing months, Elton Brand snapped his achilles, and the team’s biggest signings have been circus midget Brevin Knight, a convicted sex offender, and Dan Dickau.  Tim Thomas will be relied on this season to add new facets to his game, such as defense and rebounding.  But while many have the Clips keyed in as front-runners for the first pick in the 2008 NBA draft, here at 120 proof, we’re convinced that the Clippers will somehow manage to screw that up too.
Obnoxious News: Leave it to Isaiah Thomas to waive Dickau, arrange a trade for the Clips' Jared Jordan, and then proceed to waive his ass two weeks later. He's like that bully who used to beat you up and take your lunch money, only to proceed to tear up the dollar bills in front of your face. Wait, you didn't have that guy too?  28-54

The Smirnoff: Still pretty nasty, all things considered, but with just the right splash of cranberry, tonic, and roofie, it's nearly palatable. 

24. Milwaukee Bucks

Editors Disclaimer: There are two forecasts that I have a sneaking suspicion might bite me in the ass like Marv Albert on steroids. This is the first of them.

The Good News:  Other than flopping like a Chinese Vlade Divac, Yi Jianlian actually seems to have the talent to justify his high pick.  And there's at least a 4% chance that Bobby Simmons will be healthy.  If that wasn't enough, they actually kept Charlie Villanueva, who might possibly have the greatest disparity between talent (abundance) and work ethic (non-existent) of anyone in NBA history.
The Bad News:  Their best player is still Michael Redd.  And not that he's bad...  well, you see, if you rely that heavily on someone who is really only an outs