Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Just follow the little ball

From the department of "this could have been us," regular DR visitor and avid reader/blogger himself Big Ben from the streets of Manayunk submits this gem courteous of Comcast Sportsnet. Neil Hartman never disappoints! A few things to take particular note of: 1) Sammy is apparently in attendance with Kel, but no Kenan; 2) He refers to the puck repeatedly as a little ball, which can't sit well with his teammates on the Canadian national team, or its famous alum.

Props to the first man to get a Dalembert Flyers Jersey, indeed.

Strong Defense!

Could it be time to change the Dalembert Report profile picture?

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Now Class, What Have We Learned Today?

Well I've learned a lot in the past ten days or so. Oddly, the Sixers are still playing, and will be playing into May. Sadly, they might not be playing past Mt. Airy May Day. But winning two games in a series we very likely could have/should have been swept in is little consolation to me at this point. See when I watch the Sixers, I lose control of all rationale. Especially once we win a game in Detroit, Sammy goes nutts in Philly, and Reggie Evans turns into Hakeem on the low block. And when logic and reason go out the door, so too does my hair, which mysteriously either falls out or gets ripped out every time Willie Green decides he wants to be Lebron. I've spent the better part of the last three days cursing at high volume and scaring my neighbors. They might just think I take American Idol very seriously, but I doubt it.

That being said, I have learned many things throughout this series, and it's time to take account of this intellectual growth.

Let's get things started with some hatred. I feel it's a great injustice to the world that Mason, the Pistons announcer, still has a job. How has Rasheed not killed this man yet? Why is it cool to stutter every time he says the word "Billups"? I refuse to believe that the Pistons are a championship team on account of his presence alone. Matt Cord is intolerable, but Mason should die...and I don't take death lightly.

Mo Cheeks has not a single coaching instinct in his well dressed body. Would it kill the man to call a timeout after a big Sheed 3 rather than after his third or fourth consecutive three? Does it make sense to take Thad out right after he comes out the gate scoring 6 or 8 straight points? Would a zone be that painful to try?

Andre Miller not only looks like Juice Goldman but he apparently has the same lift as Juice when taking a jumper. Don't get me wrong, I love Andre Miller, but every time he takes a midrange jumper, I find myself asking the age old question: What the Dilly Oh?

If I were to suit up tomorrow for the Sixers I honestly might be the third biggest threat from downtown. Bring back Willy Burton! Dana Barros must be available...

Young Thad deserves more burn and more plays designed for him. Is it me or does he score ten points almost immediately every game? I also mentioned this next point to both Chief Naka and Eldiablogrande, but to me, points he scores and points sammy mysteriously contributes just mean more than the average bucket. Is there anyway we can get the league to recognize this? Even a slight bump, like 1.5 for every point they each score would be helpful and warranted. We should all turn to Thad's blog in these tough times, undoubtedly he is giving insightful reflection, enthusiastic at that, on each and every game.

Rasheed is good. Like for realz good. Ugly like a mo, but good. If Reggie Evans could shoot threes, post up, block shots, and grow random grey spots in his hair, maybe we would be the better team. But until that happens, we might be in trouble.

Igoudala does not deserve a max deal. He has been dominated by a man who has AIDS and presumably other funny diseases. He has got to have realized that Bucho himself could take Tayshaun in the post, yet he remains incapable of putting together a solid drop step despite having a 50 lb advantage. He has allowed said AIDS patient to shoot something like 80% in this series. Iggy is a freak athlete, we can all agree on that. And he just threw down an ill dunk, which is fun to watch. But he seemingly can't get his own shot, has shitty body language, and does not deliver when we need him most. I want him back, don't get me wrong, but not if he is going to get the big(gest) bucks.

Flip Saunders has tourettes. I'm pretty sure of it. His twitch combined with his orange skin makes me very uneasy. Next thing you know Jim Eisenreich will be coaching an NBA title contender.

Jason Maxiel looks like he carries guns and years of resentment. I'm willing to bet that he has rottweilers and a rap studio in his house, not to mention a formidable posse of once high flying, then flunky college students.

When KO and Shav are in the game, we have likely lost... and there's the big guy himself. Damn.

Outside of this series, and in a nuttshell: Melo is soft and a big baby; Melo and AI are not going to win any titles; CP3 and Dwight Howard are two players I'd like to have/might suck penis to get; Same goes for Josh Smith and Joe Johnson; Kobe may be more than just a rapist, it appears he is a good basketball player too; Manu and Tony Parker probably deserve more props than I currently give them on account of my xenophobic tendencies; Pyscho T should be Obama's running mate; Ryan Howard apparently has an affection for striking out; and lastly, Brazil sounds both awesome and troubling, especially if you are Ronaldo.

And one thing has been reaffirmed: SAMMY IS A GREAT MAN. His hair tonight will help the world realize that our collective love here on the DR should extend and be embraced by the greater public. The game recap tells me that "SD" stood for "strong defense." The "LJ" was referring to a loved one. Not to toot my own horn or anything, but Sammy does call me, affectionately I might add, his "little jew." You do the math

Sixers in 7!

Hace La Lluvia


We've been out of touch. Even the Sixies not-so-stunning victories over the Pissheads and Sammy D's far more stunning 22 and 16 extravaganza were not enough to bring me back to the internet. But if our beloved hero can channel his inner Artest than certainly we feel it is our duty to provide the DR faithful with an update.

Update #1 - As I write this, the Sixies are down 12 and looking overmatched. Even the power of Sammy's "Strong Defense" has not been enough to compete with a fired up Pistons squad and a hype home crowd. However we keep the faith, and possibly by the time I've finished this post the tide will have turned.

Update #2 - A probationer and probable DR reader by the alias name of D. Gunn was recently unfortunate enough to be arrested for shoplifting whereupon he handled the matter in the only way sensible by pulling out the syringes that he generally keeps in his pocket and threatening the police with blood that he claimed was AIDS infected. Here's wishing him safe passage through the halls of justice.

Update #3 - This incomprehensible photograph:

Update #4 - Josh Smith has earned himself a max deal, thus pricing him out of the Sixers range. Conversely though, Iguodala has cost himself at least 10 million bucks through this dismal ass display thus hopefully making sure that we dont pay him large stacks of undeserved stackola.

Update #5 - Big props to DR corporation counsel Big Firm who is graduating from law school and also waiting for the Austrian police to come knocking at his door.

Sixers have cut the lead to 10. Keep the faith people, keep the faith.

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Heaven Truly is a Playground

When DV Dubs threatens to post, I must stem the tide. Enough is enough.

The NBA playoffs are upon us, and our beloved Sixers will have the pleasure of upsetting Rasheed and co. and showing the world just how damn beautiful young thad is (pro homo). See it's basketball that gets us through the rough times, whether those rough times be law school finals, april showers, or tax deadlines. James Naismith was a true G of epic proportions, god bless that man and his peach basket. And peaches are delicious too, by the way.

On a somewhat related note, a wonderful thing happened the other day. I was watching The Fresh Prince of Bel Air as I always do when I get ready to go to school in the morning, and one of my favorite episodes was on. Essentially Will is the star of the high school team that consists of brother Carlton, a bunch of stereotypical white prep school kids, and coach named smilie. Set to the music of MC Hammer, flat top Will dominates the competition, playing on an 8 foot rim in a court the size of the GFS Little Gym, with no nursery schoolers in sight, however. Ultimately Carlton fucks it up for everybody, steals in inbound pass and ruins Bel Air Academy's shot at the title, but the result is largely inconsequential. What's important is that basketball, one of the true loves of my life, finds itself in mass media all the time. Why just yesterday I watched Obama himself talk about how he would whoop up on George W one on one, even if he bowls like a retarded blind man. So I've started thinking to myself: Big Firm, what are your favorite basketball moments from the world of tv and movies? And refusing to leave questions unanswered, I present you with the following gems:


My favorite might just be the Fresh Prince. In fact, basketball was the focal point of multiple episodes. Not only does Will shine and beat Isiah Thomas in the episode described above, but he also throws a game in favor of the security guard from white man cant jump who makes billy hoyle shoot on africa to get his biatch on jeopardy just b/c he has a kid. Pure genius. How many black high school seniors in Beverly Hills have kids before they graduate high school? Well one very good one. Great acting in that show, the more times I link to it the more times I realize that Fresh Prince was about so much more than wearing jams and high top Nikes at the same time. It was also about hot underage teenagers and black servants too!

But other great television moments abound. there's the episode where Carl Winslow wants son Eddie to become a superstar but young Eddie just lacks the drive and determination of Sam Spirn. Had Eddie spent more time working on his jump shot and less time pressing up on the honeys with his homey Waldo, Eddie might have been the next Tyreke Evans. If memory serves me right, Urkel even played Grandma Ma Ma himself (herself) in a tournament. TGIF = gold!

Uncle Jessie even laced em up with Kareem... It ain't easy to sky hook over an Olsen twin, but I'll be damn if that alien looking muslim doesn't make it look smooth. But who are we kidding? John Stamos moonlighted as a Beach Boy, lived in his brother's attic, and wore v neck white Ts like they were going out of style. How was he going to stop the likes of an all-time great? I guess I should be more concerned that Kareem felt compelled to make a guest appearance on what was a tremendous show...ten years after Stephanie was out of high school and presumably hooked on meth, DJ was pregnant with Valerie Bure's child, and the show was on its second set of twins. I'm thinking bankruptcy, but that's just me.

Of course I'm ignoring tv shows w/ basketball themes, like Hangin with Mr. Cooper [and Mrs. Rodney Peete] and the TNBC thriller about a star female basketball player on a mens team. But personally, I'm more about the impromptu basketball moment, not the contrived theme or Reggie Theus showing Anthony Anderson how to bounce pass. look at the motherfuckin courts these people play on!

Then there's the time young Theo packs Ghost Dad's shit Sammy D style . Seriously, if for no other reason, check out theo's maroon sweatsuit (Sam Slaughter 4th grade style) and Cliff's adidas jumpsuit/train conductor hat combo... dominant!!

But tv basketball moments are shit compared to basketball movies. And I'm going to even put aside genius films like Hoosiers and Space Jam. I'm talking real genius (go ahead and check out 11/7/91 and 11/8/91, you won't regret it. 5/22/93 ain't bad either). Genius that somehow compels otherwise sane and logical producers, financiers, and directors to put aside any semblance of self respect in an effort to satisfy the population's insatiable appetite for basketball movies.

The Sixth Man

You've got the best player in the country, who just happens to be a Wayans brother. You have Dwayne Cleophus Wayne, who might very well be the second best player in the country. You are the University of Washington Huskies. Just as you are about to embark on a a championship run, the unthinkable happens. Dwayne Wayne... well Dwayne Wayne dies, and younger Wayans brother must pick up the slack. And pick it up he does. With the help of a supernatural spirit blocking shots and dropping in threes, the Huskies march to the national championship. Beauty of the story, they win it with Kadeem sitting on the bench. I mean this story has it all: Black People? check. Basketball? Check. Ghosts? you got it. If this story somehow involved the Phillies, the 6th Man would be the best movie of all time.

The Air Up There
I feel bad mentioning this movie since I just mentioned it last week. But you must understand, this movie changed my life. I grew up idolizing Hakeem Olajuwon, as many of you know. This movie was ABOUT HAKEEM OLAJUWON! Quick synopsis: Kevin Bacon was the man back in the day, but a bum knee and an assistant coaching job later Jimmy Dolan needs to find his coach a star. And where better to find a star than the great continent of Africa? Where tall men run like zebras and and earlobes reach down to hips. So Jimmy Dolan makes a pilgrimage to Africa, stirs up a community rivalry, tears apart a family, angers a fat man, brings said family together again, and wins the respect of the natives by marching up mountains and subjecting himself to exotic forms of initiation. The Air Up There tells us that there is air up (or down) there, air that signals opportunity and teaches us all a valuable lesson: basketball is the answer to all of our problems. All of them.

Celtic Pride
It appears that when Hollywood needs a black basketball player, they go to the Wayans household. I'm assuming Kim will play Lisa Leslie in her next feature film. But Celtic Pride is a gem few know about, and for what reason, I'm not sure. Here you have two best friends, played by two legitimately funny and well established actors...white men, jolly at that. Loyal fans who will do anything to help their team win. Oddly, that team is the lowly Celtics, as irony would have it. The Celtics are playing the Jazz, star player: Lewis Scott, a killer combination of Scottie Pippen & Latrell Sprewell...if that combo had man titties. What better way to assure a victory over the Jazz? Kidnap Lewis Scott, torture him with terrible fake Boston accents, and then return him to his mormon roots. The ending is priceless; predictable, uncreative, and unmatched. Great entertainment, indeed.

Teen Wolf
Ok, this one might take the cake. Alex P Keaton realizes he's a wolf, grows hair everywhere, plays side by side a fat guy named Chubby in hope of winning the favor of a girl named Boof. BOOF! Perhaps this movie more than any other has the most realistic basketball scenes ever captured by a camera. Not once is a shot followed continuously from the hand of the shooter to the bucket, but that really is of no matter. CLEARLY, Michael J can dunk with the best of them. CLEARLY the black dude with rec specks on the other team couldn't block every shot and dunk from the free throw line. As a naturally hairy man myself, I wish the message of this movie had more staying power, ladies: hairy is in. It gets you kegs of beer and allows you to dunk and shoot like a wizard.

The Final Shot: Hank Gathers Story
Nuff said. Great man, great movie. Put Dobbins Tech on the map, people. Made me a Loyola Marymount fan for life, put me on to Bo Kimble who eventually was the namesake for my cat. The final shot, my brother, came too soon.

Hoop Dreams
Maybe my favorite movie of all time. Oddly enough also showcased another Bo (RIP), Arthur Agee's father. Look closely and you can see Kevin Ollie in this movie at ABC camp (with the same mustache), countless coaches, young members of the Fab 5...a guy named Shannon working at Pizza Hut, two 7 foot twins who I think went on to University of Wisconsin, and the story of shattered dreams. Drugs, poverty, old school dominique wilkins jerseys...Hoop Dreams made me want to go to Mineral Area Junior College. Thank you William Gates and Arthur Agee.

This one makes me shake my head in disbelief while clap my hands in an uproarious manner. A loud mouth female coach plucked from the stands by a rich cowboy. All star cast doesn't do it justice: John Salley, Marc Jackson, Rick Fox, Greg Ostertag, Dennis Farina, DWAYNE MOTHERFUCKIN SCHINTIUZ, and no other than Stacey Patton himself (again RIP). This movie is absurd, yet I watch it every time it comes on tv. Imagine if Phyllis Magaziner was asked to coach the Sixers. Imagine Kevin Ollie and Phyllis forming the same relationship Eddie and John Salley had. Imagine if Phyllis caught Igoudala cheating on his wife? Imagine if Phyllis told Ed Snider to go fuck himself? This could happen people...

Sunset Park
Take away everything good about Eddie and replace it with Carla from Cheers and you have Sunset Park. There is no redemption for this movie, Fredro Starr aside. This is Meg Rabinowitz, if she taught at Martin Luther King High, and MLK had a bunch of incredibly talented black players who were in dire need of discipline. That is Sunset Park.

There are so many great ones I can't even begin to discuss. Juwanna Man, Soul in the Hole (great soundtrack), name it.

So what have we learned? Basketball is so much more than the NCAA tournament and the NBA playoffs. Basketball is life! And by life I mean basketball is even better when played in movies and on tv shows.

Go sixers

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Back in Action

A few motherfuckin thoughts:

As a preliminary matter, I would like to apologize for my DR absence in the past few weeks. Safe to say, my creative juices have not been flowing. But then a funny thing happened. I started receiving emails from random kids I went to high school with, and I started to realize a few things.

1. It's been a decade since I drank a forty that had been sitting in my car trunk for 4 months.

2. Very little has changed since I was 18. I have the same friends, the same interests, and the same t shirts. No shit, I just wore a 1997 Germantown Community Tournament t- shirt the other day. There's nothing like telling people you went to Germantown High when they make fun of a place called Germantown Friends.

3. I am going to miss my high school reunion for the worst of reasons: law school graduation.

So while my one friend is flirting with the random once fat, now fly jawn in the corner, and my other friend is pressing up and the random nerd now mother of two at the bar, I will be toasting three years of school that very closely resembled middle school - just absent Coach Franco yelling at me. So while I wind down my schooling, I toast you my dear friends who will celebrate Quakerism and Carl Tannenbaum without me.

In other news, the Sixers have decided to become incredible, and believe it or not, I do not use that word loosely. Here I was picking victories and causing losses a mere three months ago. Low and behold, we were RIGHT about Sammy D. He is so much more than a computer technician. He's actually a stellar basketball player, and one of the longest men in the league to boot. Clearly only Jason Smith's inevitable bout with herpes following his LES shenanigans can slow this team down, and I'm pretty sure Abrevia cleans that shit up in no time (I mean, that's what I heard). I could also pretend to be hyped about the Flyers, but that's tough when the only player I can name is Eric Desjardins, and something tells me he hasn't been on the team in a while. But go Flyers, if you win the title, I might applaud, or at least text Chief Naka in an attempt to look informed.

But the big news in my life is that the Phillies are back in action. So while I should be focusing on other shit, I am busy dissecting Ryan Howard's crap swing, desperately trying to find a Japanese man we can trade Kyle Wack Ass Kendrick for, and wondering why Chase Utley is drowning his hair in Crisco. But as tempting as it is to declare the Phillies pitching a shit show beyond repair, I will always keep the faith. If anything, I remain vigilant as the Young Brother I am.

This whole olympic torch nonsense has me annoyed as well. If we had half the security following that flame around defending the streets of Philly, our murder rate would go down in droves. Why do we need heavily armed men to fend off people who presumably belong to Weaver's Way Co-Op? And why does everyone care so much about Tibet, much less how China treats people who care about Tibet? If I'm going to worry about anything, it's Africa. AFRICA! Now I know I'm not Shiz, and my geography game is at best pedestrian, but last I checked, Tibet is not in Africa. I have very little time to concern myself with anything other than Africa. When Deke Mutombo opens a hospital in Tibet, you let me know. When Jimmy Dolan moves to Tibet, becomes a circumcised member of an organic and authentic Tibetan tribe, teaches the locals basketball his shake and bake, has sexual relations with a crooked teeth having missionary all while fending off the strongest and fattest businessman within a 100 mile let me know. When Nenge Mboko and Lionel Joseph attend the TIBETAN Education Conference, give me a shout. But until that point, I will remain annoyed by the protests that are clouding what otherwise may be the most important thing happening in the world: a torch people. A TORCH! There is no reason why we must burn this Hannukah light on a bus rather than in the open air. So I urge all these protestors to eat a nice fruit leather, perhaps boisenberry. Maybe stock up on delicious granola with m&ms in them. Do something, ANYTHING...just let the torch be.

And then there's this recession thing. What is up with that? No one said that the market could go in the shitter and powerful finance firms could crumble like a stale, yet delicious chocolate chip cookie. But then again, no one said you could pack the great Coke taste and zero calories into one soft drink, and if there is one thing that I learned over the course of the NCAA tournament, COKE ZERO HAS APPARENTLY DONE JUST THAT. What are we to do in these tough times? I say make people either adopt a Mexican and learn their work ethic or move to Mexico themselves. I don't want to hear about home foreclosures, teaser mortgage rates, and poor employment prospects. I want to hear that people are getting creative! Where is the entrepreneurial spirit? If the best pitcher on the Chicago Cubs is a squirmy jewish rookie coming off a broken arm and recently removed rubber-bands from his braces, clearly Americans can survive these shaky times. feels so good to write again. Even if I have nothing decent to say, and very little time to search for funny pictures. What's more, I had to build a website for a class and got to learn about pornography while doing so. That being so, I encourage you all to explore at your leisure...

Big Firm, out.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

Addendum Alert!!!

Yesterday I posted a nugget (at the exact same time as Flintskins beloved Dan Gross) about an anonymous sixer. Turns out the sixer is none other than...Jason Smith. Not only did he make out with a pornstar, eww go clean your mouth out with bleach, but she said he was a good kisser to boot.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

76ers Players..or PLAYERS?

Dalembert Report NYC Asian correspondent Shumai Kamakaze reported this nugget from the trenches this morning. Could it be that Sammy has captured this former Gubernatorial candidate of California's heart? Was it LWIII? KO? Oh who am I kidding, it was obviously Calvin Booth.