Hey, It's In The Bag, Pistons Fans! So Take The Night Off

All you Pistons fans who feel like you’re going to Sheed your pants in anticipation of tonight’s Game 7 of the NBA Finals, here’s a word -- literally -- of advice for you: relax.

Yep, that’s right. Chill out. Take a bubble bath. Enjoy a glass of iced tea. Read a good book and curl up on the sofa. In fact, you don’t even have to watch the game if it’s too much for you. I’m giving you a night off tonight, if you wish, from the drama and angst of these NBA playoffs. I’m granting you the option of finally getting off this rollercoaster you’ve been riding for two months worth of postseason action.

The Pistons are gonna win it, and if you don’t believe me, then I feel sorry for you because all you’re going to end up doing is giving yourself an ulcer and a Chauncey stomach.

I speak the truth because the hottest person in these last two rounds hasn’t been Billups or Hamilton or Prince or even Wade or Ginobili. It hasn’t been Rasheed or Ben or Shaq or Duncan.

The hottest person, you see, has been me. Moi. Yours truly. The auteur of this cozy little blog.
You can read these next few lines to the theme of "Shaft" if you’d like, but suffice it to say that I was the cat who said the Pistons wouldn’t drop out against the Heat after they went down 3-2. I was the dude who said they would win a blowout in Game 6 over Miami and a tight one in Game 7, and it happened exactly as I said. I was the one who said the Pistons would settle themselves down and win Game 3 against the Spurs. I was the man who risked his life for his fellow man by suggesting the Pistons relax and have fun in Game 6 because nobody expected them to win. I was the one who reminded folks that the 1990 Pistons hadn’t won in Portland in over 15 years, yet swept all three in Oregon to win the championship, so why couldn’t today’s Pistons snap an eight-year streak in San Antonio like a twig if the Portland streak was a tree trunk?

You see? Hotter than a habanero pepper, I tell you.

So spend some time with your family tonight. Go to a movie. Play video games. Drop in on Aunt Meg or Uncle Joe. Check out the Tigers on the tube, if you must watch TV. Go ahead -- I’m telling you it’ll all be fine because the Pistons will do what you want them to do, so why put yourself through any more agony?

But if you MUST watch the game, if you just have to see for yourself that I am right and truthful, I understand. I mean, I could be wrong.

But I’m not.

See ya on Jefferson Avenue.