This is Matthew.  I'm leaving PtR.

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In a recent game thread KA1Z3R posted about 50 pictures.  I was going through the game thread afterwards, just skimming it, when I noticed the picture of the girl in a thong.  At the time the community guidelines hadn't been posted, but anyone who comes here as often as KA1Z3R definitely knew this was against the rules.  I deleted the photo and kept skimming.  I came across at least two more photos that I considered totally inappropriate.  I'm not going to get into the what they depicted.

I decided to warn KA1Z3R and hide all his comments until I could finish going through the rest of the thread.  At the time I didn't know that the only way to unhide the comments is to do so one by one.  That's why all the photos from that thread appear to be deleted.  They're actually just hidden.

He's not banned, and since the official guidelines weren't posted until after that game thread, he doesn't even technically have a warning.

Lastly, the only people I have ever banned were obvious trolls.

I was going to write a post about the history of Spurs nicknames on PtR, but that requires research, and then I got distracted by some Uncle Tupelo music.

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Community guidelines have been officially posted, and there's a permanent link on the left sidebar.  Ruthless enforcement begins now.

As some of you have noticed, PtR and the other SB Nation blogs are now loosely affiliated with Yahoo, via a link box on team specific pages.  The powers that be have instructed me to write some sort of welcoming post for the flood of new users (all eight of them, though traffic has increased by about 25%).  A little something that will explain the rules of the blog and give the newbs some idea of what PtR is all about.

So that's what this post is supposed to be.  Except I only have 35 minutes to write it, meaning it will be woefully inadequate, and I am therefore relying on you, PtR brethren, to fill in the gaps via the comments, and I will eventually compile everything into a voluminous user guide:  like a Dungeon Master's guide, but lamer.

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I ate Wendy's tonight.  I don't particularly like Wendy's, it's simply the closest fast food joint.  They put floral-print napkins in my bag.  Did they simply run out of official, branded napkins?  And if your car shimmies when it's idling, that's bad, right?

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Now before the fawning and adulation begin, let's admit one thing to ourselves.  If given the choice, there's a large part of Tony Parker that would love to play with this lineup for the rest of the regular season.  With Tim and Manu sidelined, the Spurs have exactly one guy capable of creating his own shot on a regular basis.  Tony could shoot the ball 50 times a night with this lineup, and I'm not sure Pop would blink.  Tony enjoys this opportunity to have the show revolve around him for 40 minutes a night.  There's nothing inherently wrong with that, but that love of the limelight separates the Frechman from Tim and Manu, the two anti-stars of the Spurs three star solar system.

Now let's get down to the praise and worship part of the service.

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(Written Saturday night.)

One $30, adjustable height ironing board.
One $6 chair cushion, which I am now sitting on.
Two $1 toilet scrubbers, which I will use at most twice before throwing away.

That is what I purchased this evening at Ikea.  They have self-checkout lines there now, and I forgot they don't give you bags to carry out your stuff.  I didn't feel like buying a bag I was just going to throw away, so I just hauled the stuff out to my car.  On my way home I stopped at Super Fantastic Wal-Mart for soda.  I again used the self-checkout line; it was either that or wait 20 minutes.  In Wal-Mart.  On a Saturday night.  No thank you.  Then drive thru at Taco Cabana.  Then home.

It reminded me of something I wrote to a friend, back in the days when I wrote with an earnest belief my own words could change me:

Living alone in a condo where you never see your neighbors is considered "hip."  It makes little sense when you strip away the packaging.  So much of the American Dream seems superficial and isolationist.  Move away to the suburbs.  By a car for every adult so you don't have to share.  A TV for every room so every family member can watch what they want.  When did convenience come to mean the avoidance of human interaction?  Success is measured by how alone one make his or her self.  I am independent.  Which is really the same as I am alone.

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As some of you guessed, the trolls in last night's game thread were repeat offenders (new IDs from same IPs).  I had their IPs banned.

I feel all tough now.

The Spurs have two obvious needs (besides the health of the Big Three):

1.  A big man who can play defense and rebound.
2.  A permanent spot on the bench for Michael Finley.

Rasheed Wallace seems like a pipe dream to me.  I find it hard to believe that Detroit couldn't get something better than Bonner, Hill, Mahinmi, Mason (these are the only four guys we would trade that anyone would want) and contract filler (especially when you consider that Detroit would have to cut guys to make room on their roster for our pu-pu platter).

So how about we go after someone who's actually available?

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I no longer have cable television, and my computer is fritzwonkular most of the time.  I'm also wading into what is supposedly the most difficult semester of pharmacy school, so watching Spurs games will likely be the rare occurrence for me.  But I still plan on writing on special occasions, namely every Monday.  Because Mondays are special.  And because Mondays mark the beginnings of weeks, a time often devoid of fun, hope and general good feelings.

Much like my writing.  So it should be easier for you to swallow.

Every Monday, 8:00 a.m. central time, like Swiss clockwork.  I'll always throw something about the Spurs in there, sprinkled amongst ramblings, muffled cries for help, and whines, gripes and curmudgeonings.  And Shins' lyrics.

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In case anyone wants to chat during the game...

I couldn't find the exact quote, but a PtR member, in some FanPost, wrote that die hard NBA fans don't watch the All Star game.  I vehemently disagree.  The All Star game is about the best NBA players getting together for an exhibition.  It's supposed to be fun.  It's not supposed to be a competitive game.  It's pomp and circumstance, but it's supposed to be.

Now, if you're primarily a die hard Spurs fan, and wouldn't go watch the Toronto play Charlotte even if you had courtside seats, then this game isn't for you.  It's not supposed to be.

If you love the NBA, you watch the All Star game just for kicks. You grab some popcorn and hope something memorable happens.  Maybe Kobe and Lebron will make the third quarter a contest to see who can score more points.  Maybe Tim Duncan will do his best Tragic Johnson (copyright Sean Elliott) impression and do a no look bounce pass to a celeb in the front row.  Maybe Yao Ming will make a 3 and maybe Shaq will even break a sweat.  Who knows.

It does not take a genius to figure out that Gregg Popovich does not care what a silly blogger has to say.  After all, this is the same guy who regularly blows off sideline interviews on national television.  So when I say he's making a mockery of David Stern and the entire NBA, it's certainly not going to change anything about a man who foolishly projects the image that he fears nothing.  A coach that uses sarcasm and a wry smile only as a means to mask a staggering stubbornness that has cursed the Spurs on more than one occasion.

In case you don't know what this is all about, let me fill you in.  The Spurs beat Golden State in OT late Monday night.  They played again Tuesday in Denver, and Pop benched their three best players; Duncan, Ginobili and Parker all sat out.  Ginobili's absence was loosely linked to a hip contusion.  Pop didn't even use fake decorum for his other two stars, saying:

"Parker makes the All-Star team, becomes hard to deal with, so we're going to sit him and teach him a lesson," Popovich joked. "Duncan says he wants to renegotiate his contract, so I said, 'Sit, I'm not talking to you.' "

Jesus, Pop.  Why didn't you just say "Hey Sterny, you can bite me!"

This whole charade looks awful.  I'm sure Pop will pull it off, but I doubt David Stern forgets it.  The Nuggets definitely won't.  Professional athletes look for any reason to play the disrespect card, and Pop basically handed Denver a deck full of them.

Personally, as a Spurs fan, this smacks of the same Popovich arrogance that has gotten the Spurs in trouble before.  The same stubbornness that led to Pop playing Van Exel and Horry in the playoffs when it was clear they were DONE (speaking of Horry, his playing time during last year's playoffs looks especially bad when you consider how well Bonner is playing this year).  It's possible that tonight's game won't matter.  The problem is, there's no way to know that right now.

Pop loves to downplay home court advantage in the playoffs.  I know I'm pointing out the obvious, but HCA is hugely important in the playoffs.  Even for the Spurs.  Over the past six playoffs, the Spurs are 42-13 at home and 26-25 on the road.  During the past three championship years they won a total of two series in which they did not have HCA.  Who did they beat?  Phoenix, both times.  Phoenix!  A team entirely designed to lose to the Spurs in the playoffs.

Read that again.  The Spurs have won three championships with the Big 3, and during those playoff runs they didn't have HCA for only two series... against Phoenix.

In fact, over the past six seasons, the Spurs have lost only two playoff series when they had HCA.  One was in 06, to Dallas.  A series that featured two OT losses, Nick Van Exel's ridiculous playing time and questionable officiating.  The other was in 04, against the Lakers.  Yeah, you remember what happened that year.

But it's only one game you say!  What's one game?  Well, let's take a look.

In 2008, one more win would have meant having home court against New Orleans, a team they barely survived against.  One more loss would have put them in a 3-way tie with HOU and PHX (I don't remember which position they would have had in that scenario and don't feel like figuring out.)

In 2007, one game would not have made a difference.

In 2006, one game would not have made a difference.

In 2005, one game would not have made a difference.

In 2004, one more win would have meant jumping Minnesota in the standings, giving them home court throughout the WC playoffs and avoiding the Lakers until the conference finals.  One more loss and they wouldn't have had HCA against the Lakers.

In 2003, one more loss would have meant the 3 seed instead of 1 seed.

So, in the past six years, one single game would have made a significant difference in seeding half the time.

Duncan and Parker aren't hurt.  Manu has a freaking bruise.  The Spurs have FOUR DAYS OFF after tonight's game.  The "Rodeo Road Trip" is now, in actuality, eight games spread out over 20 days, with two breaks of four and five days off.  This is simply a profoundly conspicuous nose-thumbing at the entire NBA power structure.  It's silly and foolish to say the least.

I don't know if one game will make a difference.  Neither does Pop.  And given that unknown, you better have a really good reason to throw a conference game in the middle of the season.  Pop doesn't have one.  And if he did?  Well, if he wouldn't tell Craig Sager, he certainly wouldn't tell me.

Hey folks.

Thanks for flagging the asinine and offensive FanPost.  It has been erased and the user banned.  That type of content is not accepted and I enforce a zero-tolerance rule.

That user also registered another account from the same IP address.  That account was also banned.  I can have the IP address banned if necessary.

Fucking Awesome!

So rice is like important and shit.  Some folks, whose only trangressions were being born in the wrong country or in the wrong family, pretty much live off this rice stuff.  They grow it and they eat it and they get by.  But sometimes the rains rain too much and that shit floods.  And see the rice is all chill for a couple days, but then it wacks out and tries growing real fast to get out the water, and by the time the waters recede it's done shot it's proverbial ricecake and it dies.  And then these folks have nothing to eat, and shit gets ugly and people die.

So this scientist right, this Dr. Pamela Ronald, was all "yo fuck that."  They had this one rice that could live for like 17 days underwater, but it tasted all nasty ass.  So she was all "ain't no thing" and did some fancy gene isolatin' and what not and figured out what made this nasty rice magical-like.  She took the magicness and magicbred it into some sweet ass tastin' rice and fucking blammo!  Flood resistant rice that tastes delish.  That shit will eventually save millions of lives.  Millions of people.  Actual people.  Real, living people.  That grow rice and laugh and love and steal and borrow and all sorts of things.

That's fucking awesome.

http://www.cnn.com/2009/TECH/science/01/29/waterproof.rice/index.html

I hope every NBA fan who has ever thought the Spurs were boring had a chance to watch that game.  It was a beautiful thing to watch.  Of course, the Spurs still want to be boring, they just can't play defense any more.

I have no plans of doing the game justice, so here are just some random thoughts.

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I want to believe that Walt Whitman would have liked The Shins.

I do not want to make it seem like I have any answers.  I do not.  Well, maybe I should take that back.  I do not know if I have any answers, for I have never truly tested any idea that got lodged in my brain.  (See what I did there?  I deftly avoided implying that I have ever come up with an original idea, invoking the imagery of someone else's idea getting trapped in my brain, like a fly in an abandoned spider's web.)

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Happy holidays everybody.  I hope LatinD is taking Christmas off, so feel free to use this as the game thread.

You know what my nephew asked for on his Christmas list?

A fucking grappling hook, that's what.  Because he's going to be scaling some walls or some shit.  Breaking and entering or some shit.  Fuck guns or switchblades, grappling hooks are some fucking gangsta-ass shits.  What would do if you came across a dude with a grappling hook on the street?  Get the fuck out his way, that's what.

This is hopefully the last post I will have to make about what is inappropriate content on PtR.

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Oh my God. I am so sorry I am just now writing this.  I never saw it. I'm sure you posted it and I just missed it., but this is pretty much the coolest thing ever:

Thank you. It's perfect and beautiful.  I have no idea how you make these things work.  It blows my mind, and not many things do.  (In case some readers don't know, it's an ambigram.  The text can be rotated 180 degrees and it's spells the same word.)

I need to get this permanently displayed on the main page (with your permission).  I'll work on that over Thanksgiving.

This might not make much sense, but I had a shitty fucking day and this cheered up.  Thanks again.

Before posting a picture or a link, ask yourself the following questions.  If the answer to any of them is "Yes," then don't post it.

1.  Would the picture offend the most austere of nuns?
2.  Does it make you tingle in your special place?
3.  Could a hard copy of the picture be used as a form of currency in a maximum security male prison?
4.  If the picture were of your sister, would it make you feel weird to post it?
5.  Would you feel uncomfortable making it your background at work?

Look.  We can all find pictures of cheerleaders on the internet.  Don't post them here.  If you guys keep it up, I'll start posting pics of my ass.  Nobody wants that.  Trust me.  Trust me.

I don't need to read the rumor mills or the musings of a beat writer.  The Spurs are not trading for Eddy Curry.  We're talking about a perennially out of shape player known for his laziness.  He also has a well-publicized heart condition and player options for the next two years at more than $10 million per.  He's also a worse defensive rebounder than Fabricio Oberto.  The.  Spurs.  Are.  Not.  Trading.  For.  Eddy.  Curry.

Now if he was 35 it would be another story...

I thoroughly enjoyed watching this game.  I never knew watching a cast of misfits trying to play basketball could be so therapeutic and relaxing.

I love our scrubs.  Love them.  I have to give them each their proper due, in order of descending scrubitude and ascending love.

George Hill
Chances of leaving scrubdom:  35%
Tattoos:  Oh hellz yes.

George just might have a worse jump shot that Jacque Vaughn.  It's got a hell of an arc, though.  Maybe he thinks the ball will be up there long enough for Pop to forget who shot it.  He's got crazy long arms and would already be a better defender than Jacque Vaughn if he dove on the floor more.  Diving on the floor is like the ace of spades in the card game spades.  It trumps all other defensive attributes.  Blocked shots?  Pfft.  Get on the ground!

Desmon Farmer
Chances of leaving scrubdom:  5%
Tattoos:  Yes ma'am!

You know something I love about Desmon?  He ended up with the ball at the first quarter buzzer, and instead of handing the ball to the ref he dribbled the ball behind his back and did a spin move.  Against nobody.  Just goofing off.  Plus he wears a headband.  Two anti-Spur qualities.  I'd give this man a long term contract just for those two attributes.

I think him and George might have a contest to see who can shoot the ball highest.  I'm pretty sure one of his fourth quarter jumpers got caught in the walkways of Tropicana Field.  He seemed confused when it was ruled a ground rule double.  There's no shame in that, Desmon.  Confused the hell out of me, too.

I would give Farmer a better chance to make it if he hadn't have lost his right hand in a tragic childhood weed wacker accident.  The man simply cannot dribble with his right hand.  It's comical.

Anthony Tolliver
Chances of leaving scrubdom:  -372%
Tattoos:  Soon, promise.

I love Anthony Tolliver.  I'm thinking about getting a uterus transplant just so I can have his baby. 

On his first touch of the ball he faked a three and made a Ginobili-esque pass to Duncan down low for the and 1.  It made me laugh, because I'm pretty sure he was just afraid to shoot the ball.  And with good reason, for his first attempt from the same exact spot missed the rim and clanged violently off the background.  Violently.  I think Tim nearly chipped a nail on that shit.  He was not happy.

Anthony's one of those guys who can play a whole game without giving the viewer any idea of how tall he is.  He could be anywhere between 6'-2" and 6'-10".  I don't have the foggiest.  He just sort of blends in.  Like a chameleon.  A chameleon who barely made his high school basketball team.

That's the list.  I know you're thinking I'm leaving some guys out.  Not so, my friends.  Jacque Vaughn, Michael Finley, Bruce Bowen and Kurt Thomas are not scrubs.  They're washed up.  There's a difference.  Oh, and Bonner and Oberto just plain suck.  Scrubness requires a certain charm that those two fellas lack.

As for the Spurs outlook?  Well, Parker's out two weeks.  Here's the schedule during that time:

NY
@ MIL
HOU
@SAC
@LAC
DEN
UTA
@MEM

That's about as easy a schedule you could hope for in the Western Conference.  HOU, DEN and UTA are definite losses.  The best the Spurs should hope for is 4 wins in that group.  That leaves them at 5-8 when TP comes back.

By the way, right now the Spurs have the second worst record in the league.

Lastly, a quick note to Michael Beasley.  Get a hair cut.  That do needs a lot of help, but stay away from Marion's barber.  Something ain't right about that man.

Do you like the Spurs?  Can you put together semi-coherent thoughts while using 3rd grade level punctuation?  Then we have a job for you!

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I'm sorry, ok?  I have been busy, and if it makes you feel any better, my life is more or less miserable.  It's not that school is hard.  It's not.  It's just not what I was expecting.  I'm not doubting my (new) choice of careers, but I thought it the experience would be more enjoyable.

Many thanks go out to AusTechSpur for keeping this place up and running.  I need to call you and stuff.  I owe you some Thai food at the least.

So, the Spurs.  I tried to get into them once during the preseason.  I was in the car, trolling for something to listen to, when I remembered AM radio still exists.  So I flipped over to WOAI and lo and behold, the Spurs were on!  The announcer mentioned Jacque Vaughn.

I turned off the radio.

I have no interest in watching (or listening to) Jacque Vaughn play basketball.  The same goes for Finley, Thomas, Bonner, Oberto, Bowen and Udoka (though part of me is intrigued that he might FtFO and shiv somebody).  Watching the Spurs has, to me, become like watching a small Tennessee town's production of Rent.  You know it's going to be absolutely atrocious in parts, but you watch it to see how horribly they butcher and bastardize the intent of the musical.  You could have the original cast members playing Mimi, Roger and Mark, but it wouldn't matter because they would cast some preacher's wife as Maureen and take Angel totally out of the show.

You remember my "Problem with the Spurs" post?  My reaction to the comments from that post made me realize something:  I don't write this blog as a Spurs fan.  I am a Spurs fan, but my writing is more an (possibly poorly executed attempt at an) analysis of the Spurs / NBA.  I'm not saying you're going to learn anything reading this blog; I'm saying you're not going to see me writing about the silver lining.  I'm just not much of a liar, except when it comes to my family, but that's only because I'm morally obligated to tell them what they want to hear.

The Spure ain't winning shit this year.  That doesn't mean you shouldn't watch / root / hope / pray that they will.  But they're not.  I don't know exactly how it's going to go down, but here's an outline.

1.  Pop continues to rely on his older players, with Finley, Oberto, Bowen and Kurt Thomas getting way too many minutes.  Mason will play early in the season and get screamed at more than he deserves.  He'll then get a minor injury, which will lead Pop to say something like:

“He's hurt again,” Popovich said, “and those 35 minutes, or so, that I wanted to see him play each game isn't going to happen. They're doing an MRI again today to see if he can take the cast off and go the next step. Obviously, at this late date, he's not going to be ready to do anything in the playoffs.

“It will be tough for him, because once we start the playoffs, interjecting players who haven't been in the program really is difficult. That's a disappointment, without any doubt.”

2.  Duncan starts the season slow, leading to Tony carrying too much of the burden.  He'll get dinged up and spend the reason of the season at 85-90%.

3.  George Hill plays about as much as I do.

4.  Ginobili comes back when expected, doesn't look right, and gets sat back down for a couple weeks in Februaryish.

5.  Both Parker and Duncan will spend some time on the DL.

6.  There will be some stretch of games in the second half of the season where Manu plays totally out his fucking gourd for a couple of weeks, and we'll all hope.  (Except for me, of course.  Because I'm here to make you all miserable.)

7.  The Spurs will be lingering around the 6th seed in February, and Pop will start with the whole "You have to win on the road in the playoffs anyway" bullshit, and he'll go into disguised tank mode.   We'll start seeing Vaughn, Bowen, Udoka, Bonner and Oberto lineups in non-blowout situations.

8.  Michael Finley ups his fiber pill intake from two to four per day.

9.  Pop says "We're just trying to get everybody healthy for the playoffs."

10.  Spurs fans start talking about the real season starting.

11.  The Spurs finish with 48-49 wins and the seventh seed.

12.  The Spurs lose in the first round in six games to either the Lakers, New Orleans or Houston.

That's how I see it going down.  I still plan on watching, and I still am looking forward to the season.  Seriously.  I'm going to try and not think about the waning years of Tim's career, and how they're being squandered.  Instead I'll relish the games where Tony gets all pissy and decides to embarrass the opposing PG for four quarters.  And the games where Tim gets 24 and 15 and doesn't break a sweat, or the times when Manu reminds me how much better he is than Ray Allen.  It might be all the season affords us, but gosh dang it, it's something.

When I look in the mirror, I can't believe what I see.

Tell me, who's that funky dude, staring back at me?

"Funky?"  I'm the least funky person you know, Rivers.  I'm 31, bald, plainly-bearded, divorced, have a M.S. in structural engineering from Berkeley and just started pharmacy school at UT-Austin.  I am as funkless as I am (occasionally) feckless.  I am the anti-funk.  Though I do have a suede couch.  Holla.

Broken, beaten down can't even get around
Without an old-man cane, I fall and hit the ground

Oh piss the hell off, Rivers.  I'm just sore from playing flag football.  Yeah, I know, yesterday I had trouble walking at a brisk pace.  All that sprinting messed up my "I'm-used-to-running-at-moderate-to-slow-speeds-for-long-periods-of-time" leg muscles.  And yes, I nearly ripped my both of my big toenails off due to cleats that were a half-size too small and toenails that I guess needed trimming.  And yes, I'm older than all but 2 of the 125 people in my class, but I don't walk with a cane.  So blow me.

Excuse the bitchin, I shouldn't complain
I should have no feeling, 'cause feeling is pain

I'll hand it to you, Rivers, you got this part right.  I shouldn't complain.  My life is easy.  But I don't think I bitch all that much, except to my therapist.  But I pay him, so that's different.  God, I would kill for some rigatoni right now.  You ever feel that way, Rivers?  Like you would kill for pasta?

Everything I need, is denied me
And everything i want, is taken away from me
But who do I got to blame? Nobody but me

Speaking of my therapist, have you been talking to him?  'Cause I do blame myself for everything.  Right again, old chap.

…And I don't wanna be an old man anymore
It's been a year or two since I was out on the floor

ok, you lost me hear.  I don't dance.  I've never danced.  Once, at the eighth grade dance, I did a single jumping jack on the dance floor as a joke.  And that fucker Jimmy Redacted never let me live it down.  Cocksucker, that one.  That and the fact my upper and lower extremities are separated by a derhythmatized zone have rendered me danceless.  And you know this, Rivers.  You know this.

Shakin' booty, makin' sweet love all the night
It's time I got back to the Good Life

Dude, whatever.  Even if I ever did or could, you know I am not the type of guy to talk about it.

It's time i got back, it's time i got back
And I don't even know how I got off the track

Actually, I do know how I got off track.  I'm in therapy, remember?  We talk about these things.  Maybe you should stick to writing songs about yourself.  And maybe it was more like 3 jumping jacks, but he still could have let it go.

I wanna go back…Yeah!

Everyone wants to go back.  Everyone.  You sing it like it's a weakness in me.  If you don't want to go back it means you've never been any place worth staying, and that's much more damning that pining for the past.  I miss a little bit of many times of my life.  You wouldn't know which parts I'm talking about because you never really listen.  You're too busy writing the same song over and over again.  ok.  I'm sorry Rivers.  That was mean.

Screw this crap, I've had it! (I've had it!) I ain't no Mr. Cool.

Yes!  You got that God damn right, Rivers.  I ain't no Mr. Cool.  Who gives a shit?  Right now I don't.  Some time tomorrow I will.  Multitudes and such.  One day I'll get to Whitman, I promise.  And Hemingway.  I've never read Hemingway.  I know!

I'm a pig, I'm a dog, so 'scuse me if I drool

What?  A pig?  You're just fucking with me, right?

I ain't gonna hurt nobody, ain't gonna 'cause a scene

Yeah, I'm not too fond of hurting people.  It's under the false pretense that if I never hurt any one then I will never get hurt.  Turns out this isn't true.  So it goes.  And yes, I've read that one, Rivers.  God, you are such a condescending prick sometimes.

I just need to admit that I want sugar in my tea.
Hear me!  Hear me!  I want sugar in my tea!

Wait, what?  Could you know think of another word that rhymes with "scene?"  What about "I just need to admit that I have a crush on Charlie Sheen."  Or "I wear Maybelline."  Or "boop boop boo boo weeee!"  And you drink green tea, anyways.  Who puts sugar in green tea?  Oh wait, this is about me... I forgot.  But I don't drink tea.  Never have.  That shit is the gross.

Via mysa.com.

Micheal Finley is 35.  He'll turn 36 during the 08-09 season.  Players typically do not improve from age 35 to 36.  Therefore, the Spurs just willingly got worse.  Which is great, because we really had surplus awesome last year.