This time a year ago we sat checking news on Carmelo and Chris Paul, hoping for some mention of the Rockets as suitors. The season was about to begin, Yao was healthy, and we were ‘almost-contenders,’ having a bright future on the strength of a pretty good team and really good ‘assets.’ Two guaranteed future lottery Knicks picks, a developing young big man in Jordan Hill, and a budding star in Aaron Brooks gave reason to believe that whoever wound up on the market could potentially be ours.
An old friend called me the other day, someone I’ve known for more than thirteen years, and during the course of our conversation, he brought up a girl I used to date. I should stress here that this wasn’t a casual, three month girlfriend; I was with her for eight of the thirteen years he and I have known each other. But when he brought her up, for a moment, he couldn’t remember her name.
At the time, he suggested that he’d been very forgetful lately and claimed that this must be the cause of his clumsy recall, an excuse that seems unlikely as he’s barely 31 and has rarely, as long as I’ve known him, participated in any sort of activity (alcohol or otherwise) that is often blamed for such memory lapses. It seems to me that the reason for his forgetfulness in this particular instance was a much more understandable one: he hasn’t seen or spoken to her in almost four years and so is just simply, naturally forgetting.
I bring this up not to blather on about my personal life but to make a broader point about memory. Last week I was sick with the flu and, thus, had a lot of time on my hands to troll around the internet and, in the process, inevitably ended up watching a bunch of old highlight clips.
This was a very difficult list to make. I’ve watched roughly 95% of the Houston Rockets’ games since 1994 and have seen a lot of bad basketball and a lot of extremely bad players. I was there the year Matt Bullard and Walt Williams started in tandem at the forward spots. I was there when Scottie Pippen fell down in a series-ending Game 1 and again present when Mo Taylor found Krispy Kreme. I’ve seen it all or at least as much as any other adult living in this era. Nevertheless, I’m confident in the validity of these rankings and confident that true justice has been served. Without further ado, on to the list: Read More
Moving on from the horrific car accident that is the NBA’s current labor negotiation, here comes some casual dabbling in the always fun world of speculative free agency predictions. As we saw happen when the NFL finally came to its peaceful resolution, the splurge of signings, trades, relocation, and bag package quintupled in a condensed period of activity. It was as if God crammed all the blizzards, freezing rain, and icy roads usually reserved for November through February into a single week, then declared it winter. Read More