Wizards Playoff Preview: COLD GETTIN' DUMB

Hey party people, it's Wizards playoff season, and you know what that means (as based on the past two seasons), it's time for Lebron and his roster of referee friends to make their way through the speed bump that is the Wizards towards his endless anointing via the NBA marketing machinery, right? Well according to Wilbon (WILBON!) that is wrong. QUICK, take one guess who might agree with the onery occassional-carer of DC sports: that's right, us. Wizards. Sweep. You know the drill. Except this time, the humor and irony that trying hard to find the silver lining in a season torn from us by a non-playoff-participating Jordanairre's statistic amassing legs is not the basis behind this post. No, the Wizards will sweep because the Wizards are a better team. And Lebron, and his newly added clatch of crusty old floppers are barely treading water since they were thrown together as if they were methadone attempting to break a smack addiction (something native Clevelanders may know about). The team has just gone from mediocre to extra mediocre, while the Wiz have risen high!

It's nice to be so unlike last year, when people were giving the Wiz-Cavs series the same amount of attention they gave quarterlife during it's epic one episode run. In fact many are calling this series the Envy-Eli Porter MC battle of the east in both it's competitiveness and it's inclusion of rap and hilarity. We too are excited about the potential rap battle between DeShawn "Man" Stevenson's new bff, Souljah Boy, and Lebron's tired old father figure fogey-type bff, Jay-Z. Now, Bobtimist has been known to bump one or four of Jay-Z's eight number one albums from time to time in "the whip," but ever since the much publicized lame Lebron comparison between his old idol (who actually experienced success without the aid of record company official types abetting his rise to prominence through the non-calling of industry rules) and how he is like MC Joe Camel while DeShawn is like Souljah Boy, because he isn't as important, talented, or necessary, I have been upset with the misperception. Unlike "Man's" brilliant player analysis, Lebron is wrong.

When making a metaphor, as many rappers do from time to time, one must find some sort of congruence on both sides of the "like" and in the case of DeShawn Stevenson's play, he is not congruent to the teenage fad dance creating, likely-forgotten-three-months-from-now, flash-in-the-pan rapper Souljah Boy. If you look at "Man's" career (and fellow blogger-types, please stop calling him D-Steve, that sounds like a terrible nickname the IT department would give their newest database management administrator David Stevens after his third straight homerun during the company softball team's two-game winning streak) you will see that he was never "like" a one-hit phenomenon who will subsequently fade out into a career of Indian Reservation Casino performances and VH1 talking head gigs.

Although "Man" began in a phenom-sort of way, coming straight out of high school to the league, winning legendary dunk contests at Mickey-D's All-American games, he ended up losing touch with the mainstream golden oldies Stockton and Malone in these formative stages, but he put in endless work, eventually landing in the perfect situation in Washington where in his two years of steadfast improvement, he has flourished as both a defensive pest and a spot shooter (career-highs in three pointers two consecutive years). If any rapper type could be compared to "Man", a practice performed better on many-a blog sites, I think the New York rapper AZ (not to be confused with Jay-Z) would be a better comparison. AZ began as the phenom sort, stealing the show from Nas during "Life's a B1%ch" and instead of forming into the mainstream rap-god everyone saw in him, he settled into a steady stream of solid releases. AZ even goes so far as to lash out at the supposed big guns, like he did when he went after 50 Cent on the "Royal Salute" track.

Which brings us to the other side of this analogy, and who better to compare Lebron to than 50. Insane hype before the first full-length album/season, a steady string of well-received materials but an overall disdain for anything truly spectacular, lots of style, yet little substance, quite literally a douche bag, -- seems a lot more congruous than Jay-Z, who has put in a lion share more work, and provided many more quality releases (unlike Lebrick's last release vs. the Wiz --clank!), than 50 ever will. A more apt comparison to Jay-Z would be someone like, as Jigga often mentions, Michael Jordan, who touched the untouchable reached the unreachable blah blah blah for so long before wilting into a terrible general manager. (The jury is out whether Jigga's reign as the Def Jam CEO = Michael's years in Washington).

So I would say that Lebron, in addition to being overrated, is obviously wrong in his actual rating abilities. So with "Man" trying to hook Souljah Boy up with tickets and a game-worn for the series and the Optimilitia hopefully energizing the lame-according-to-Ivan-Carter crowds with their steady chants of "OVER-RATED" during free throws, it's obvious that the Wizards have the right idea when it comes to getting into someone's head (unlike one jerk-hole-ish way to get inside someone's head that should have been assessed with a technical, but I digress).

So does that make the Wizards the "dumbest team in the history of civilization," as stated by the autobiography-writing, and re-writing Charles Barkely? Only in the sense that they are COLD GETTIN' DUMB on the court during this series. As relentless as Kurtis Mantronik's bassline was in that stellar Just-Ice gem, the Wiz will be relentlessly attacking the basket, this time with healthy, talented, superstars, not crochety pieces on the washed-up side of their careers. Caron Butler: back after nursing a sore knee and the notion that he is injury-prone. Antawn Jamison: also returning from bumps and bruises after manly performances against the elite. Gilbert Arenas: another returner from injury who only sealed the Wiz's playoff positioning with a classic fourth quarter against the Sixers last week. Antonio Daniels: soldiering through a torn wrist ligament towards another strong playoff series. Brendan Haywood: Career highs in everything. The bench rotation: Songaila, Mason, Blatche, the kids. All a huuuuge improvement over disasters of yesteryears.

No need for snark, this is series is sweep material, Right? YAH TRICK YAAAAHH!

Deshawn Stevenson Newest DCO HOF Inductee

Last night wasn't just another night of strong contributions from Deshawn Stevenson despite an atypical 13 points, 5 assists, and 3 steals in a most unlikely to TNT win over the Lebrons. No, last night there was one, doubly important contribution made that immediately thrusted the occasionally accurate shooting god (aka "Man") into the DCO pantheon that includes such hallowed names as Suisham, Lannan, Khayat, and Davis. After the game, in which he was blanketing the ballyhooes that echoed around the anointed one, causing an unbelievably called charge and a miss at regulation, Deshawn stepped to Ivan Carter's tape recorder and spit hot fiya.

"He's overrated," Stevenson said. "And you can say I said that."

Upon the reading of this quote, the DCO has begun construction of an entire wing of the HOF headquarters in Lanham in remembrance named the "Deshawn Stevenson Accurate Player Assessment Wing," where architects are fashioning a giant hand-like structure that waves itself across the entrance way as if the building can no longer feel its facade.

Stevenson, he of the vet's minimum loyalty and reasonable contract signed as a result, the big-time dagger against the Hornets, the locksmith defense on Ray Allen in Boston, the high-arching, air-reaching three point bombs (working on a career high), was so spot on in his analysis of Lebron James that proper attention must be paid forthwith. Who has said anything other than glimmering compliments about his anointedness?

Lebron, as a result of this first-ever badmouthing, likely scowled his way back to the locker room with a second straight loss and no ref-delivered heroism to build upon his phony legacy. His well-rehearsed scowl will cause reporters to fawn at his passion for missing unnecessary threes at the end of regulation when down two. Maybe these fawning reporters will ignore the seven Wizards in double figures and instead concentrate on how an "undermanned" Cavs squad played solid defense — defense meaning every big man took turns hurling themselves to the floor as violently as possible to draw an offensive foul call. The flopping from the Cavs was so furious last night that I was convinced a spate of epilepsy had been passed across the Cleveland bench. Ah, but those basketball gods, having punished Washington enough, finally realized the blasphemy that constantly pretending to be hurt or violated presents and actually atoned with that push off call with 13.2 seconds left. Where amazing happens indeed.

The Cavs "hit-the-floor" defense made me think about how one comes to adopt this method of head-hurling as opposed to, I dunno, shot blocking, stealing, putting hands in the face (as Deshawn did during 'Lebrick' at the end of regulation), talking smack, punching in the groin, etc. Then I saw this lame coach K commercial constantly bombarded upon us during these Mad March days:


Now I get it. These NBA guys have gone to that Coach K school, where they learn the art of flopping as hard as possible to draw the favors of officials. Coach K, he of the egregious Gilbert snub and resulting failure in the basketball world championships, does have a Cavs connection with pupil Lebron James who now likely infects his squad with these teachings. The predillection to flop combined with the fawning treatment from officials seems to have matriculated results, but it casts an unfortunate light on the Association. Why would us basketball consumers want to watch players mimic themselves after someone who has admitted to us all that he sucks?

But enough about the death of cohesive basketball for the satisfaction of corporate partners. The day belongs to Deshawn, whose owning up to what could potentially be posted on a bulletin board was so special and un-athlete-like that players around the league may follow suit. Maybe the next time the Cavs lose to the Nets, a wily Bostjan Nachbar will decry the overratedness of Mr. Anointed. Maybe after the Cavs fizzle in the playoffs, a bold sports commentator will think he is overrated. Maybe ESPN will revoke his "Whose Now" award, as if the trite banality of the proceedings wasn't lame already. Deshawn is starting a revolution here, a revolution against fawning, against coddling, and against latent douchebaggery. Lebron may be scowling, but we are endowing.

I CAN'T FEEL MY POST

aka: DESHAWN DAGGERS DARLING DYNASTY DESPITE DETRIMENTAL DEFICIENCIES

"This is a man's league and he is man. In the dictionary next to that word there
is a picture of DeShawn Stevenson."

The Washington Wizards are collectively waving their hands across their faces in tribute to DeShawn Stevenson's time-expiring, curse-lifting, Steve Buckhantz-on-cue-taglining shot that sank what not only was one of the NBA's best teams, but also the idea that this team was doing anything even close to fading down the stretch.

With last season's final months looking to replicate itself over a longer stretch of this more promising season, the last few weeks of Wizards basketball had been something of a distressing time period. But with the Wiz winning three of their last five with one loss coming in overtime and the second coming as a result of David Stern-approved, Phil Knight-approved, Norby Williamson-approved game fixing, they seem to be in pretty good shape, despite missing their biggest guns for who knows how long.

The reason for this return to steady play, even against the league's best? The same reason the Hornets returned to their oh-so-superior Western Conference homelands with a crucial loss: DeShawn. Against the Bobcats on Saturday (aka, the atonement game), DeShawn hit three three-pointers in the waning fourth quarter moments to push the Wiz to another win over Michael Jordan's blunderfesting Bobcats. (The 'cats were once again without stat-mongering, Gilbert knee-kicking, overall jerk Gerald Wallace, whose absence from active action will always be cause to cheer.) The night before that, Stevenson was driving the lane hard in the waning seconds of ESPN's LeBron lovefest, drawing uncalled fouls that Stevenson's coddled counterpart LeBron draws without abandon from his friendly striped teammates on the other end of the court. (Of course, if LeBron didn't get his requisite preferential whistles, he might flash that oh-so-lame frustration face at the non-abiding officials. If only Gerald Wallace was stat-grabbing and knee-kicking against the Cavaliers this year.) Both of these strong performances lead to last night's career-high achieving heroics, taking what was once a 15-point second-half deficit and turning it into awe-inspiration. DeShawn was driving to the hoop drawing contact, hitting lay-ups, going 7-for-7 from the line in addition to unleashing the "Apropros Dagger" Steve Buckhantz had been just dying to expound upon this season.

What a fantastic moment, which, as per usual, was a result of questionable officiating. While Hilton Armstrong was attempting to permanently affix goat-status to himself for his waning seconds foul on DeShawn (unbelievably called in the Wizards favor, after another unbelievable charge was called in Brendan Haywood's favor two possessions earlier) by missing two crucial free throws, the refs decided Antawn Jamison, and not not-possible-er Morris Peterson violated the lane, giving Hilton (insert Kornheiser-approved Paris Hilton joke) Armstrong another chance to sink a ref-abbetted third freebee and tie the score, which he did.

But that slight lead to glory. DeShawn, noting the lack of timeouts in a non-Webber-like fashion, drove the lane, crucially crossed up Peja Stojakovic, slipped to the edge of the three point line, rose high with his reaching-for-the-lightbulb release and unleashed the dagger. Just like that the Wizards supposed tailspin came to a halt. The playoff picture remains as bright as Oleksiy Pecherov's skin tone (BTW: who didn't love the way he was just hugging everything in sight after the game winner?). No Caron, no Gilbert, no Etan, no problem.

The Wheaton Weapon suits up, and Miami gets PWNED!!111!!

HAHAHA! Anyone catch the Miami Heat, aka the worst team in the NBA getting housed by the Wizards Thursday night? I did. Before the game, people harped about the Wizards lack of winning ways in Miami, home of the worst professional sports teams in America, but not THIS optimist. Even with their ever-ballyhooed, ever-fellated-by-officials, yet ever-complaining guard Dwyane Wade in place, and not holding dramatic, wheelchair calling trips to the DL, the Wizards maintained a ten point lead throughout the contest, much to the chagrin of the TNT broadcasters, who only began firing up when the Heat managed to cut the lead to seven once or twice. Speaking of firing up, man, could Deshawn Stevenson not feel his face last night, draining career-highs in threes and season-highs in points. I wonder if Darling Dwyane was able to feel his either, for most of the crazy falling-backwards j's were directly in his over-exposed grill. I wan't able to count the number of lame T-Mobile commercials Wade was in during the broadcast in comparison with his number of effective plays, but I am sure that Miami's fickle fanbase likely gawked at more lame commercial performances (not even a genius like Barkley could rescue him), than great plays at a 30000000:1 rate.

Of course, the Darling was able to hurt the Wizards in a more lame, more dirty manner, egregiously flying towards the always-solid Antonio Daniels while he was in route to extending the lead to fifteen, illegally tackling him in the air in a foul attempt to land on sportscenter. Amazingly, the Darling was assessed his first foul of the night on the play, to which he, un-amazingly, began to cry to his usually helpful official friends. While the Wizards were OK for the rest of the night, AD suffered another freakin' sprained knee, leaving the number of adequate point guards on the Wizards roster resembling Gilbert's jersey number.

But is the DCO worried about this continued cursing via injuries? Never. Because we have been catching the recent play of Roger Mason Jr.! I know everyone on the internet loves nicknames, those crazy "African-American" traditions where guys are given lovely names based on their play, hair, criminal record, quality of cocaine, hometown, favorite car, or ability to impregnate women. Our attempts at nicknames haven't quite caught on yet, but that doesn't mean we aren't going to again throw our hats into the arena and again dub the son of Mason, The Wheaton Weapon.

As some of you may know, Bobtimist Prime is from, lives, and represents Wheaton, MD, the illest suburban enclave this side of Connecticut Avenue. Roger Mason gets his new nickname from having played at Good Counsel High School, back when it was located off of the more seedy side of Georgia Ave. Sure, the venerable Catholic school with its required polo shirts and slacks uniforms and required courses of Latin has since moved further up Georgia Ave in Olney, likely saving the paying customers of the school the need to avert the toughs leaving Mrs. Kim's lovely Party Time Beer and Wine, but the essence of Wheaton remains in Mason. The gritty, yet kind of monied background, the effective location (great three point shot = proximity to the district), the diversity (Mason plays the point in addition to shooting guard and swingman, Wheaton has a burgeoning El Salvadorian community), the key contributions (Mason's huge 18 points, Wheaton Plaza's fantastic variety of shoe stores), etc.

Now, with Daniels nursing his knees for a couple of weeks (and the Darling nursing his lottery-bound team to another lauded two-game win streak), the Wizards will rely on the Wheaton Weapon's contributions in a full time manner, and we are confident that they will continue their pwning ways.

He Walks!!

Based on recent comments from DeShawn Stevenson, DCO believes it is reasonable to conclude that Gilbert Arenas is mere days away from returning to the court. Note that Stevenson says that Arenas is "up walking around" AND "playing video games." This is a double dose of good news, as the juxtaposition of these two verb phrases must mean that Arenas is both mobile and has somehow come into posession of an advance version of NBA Live for Nintendo Wii. This is good news for Wii and Wizards fans everywhere.

Never ones to rely upon only one source for news, we at DCO maintain that we have confirmation Arenas will return to save us all based also upon this box score, where Gilbert is clearly listed as not having played due to "Coach's Decision" (no doubt to preserve him for the playoff run). If there is any reason to state this other than Gilbert's imminent return, and subsequent leading of the Wizards to glory, we'd like to hear it.