Jimmy-Butler-face

“My name is Mike Brody and I’m a diehard Minnesota Timberwolves fan.

That really feels like an AA introduction.  Actually, being a Wolves fan is a lot like being an alcoholic. Years of crying, frustration, denial and blame followed by moments of clarity and giving up.  Then the relapses.  ‘This year’s going to be different!’  Sure it is.  Just keep telling yourself that while you pee your pants at Denny’s.”

Those were the first words I ever posted on this blog over five years ago and on the surface the situation feels eerily similar.  We were 5-3 at the time (we are 7-3 right now) and about to play the Golden State Warriors (we play the Dubs Wednesday).  However, there is not a single Timberwolf (coaching staff or player) left from that era.  The only thing still the same is owner Glen Taylor, the fans, DJ Mad Mardigan and an ensuing sense of dread that something horrible and beyond our control is going to come along and ruin everything.  In 2012-13 it was Kevin Love’s stupid broken hand and the infamous, bullshit “knuckle push-ups”, which we all know was him punching someone at Augie’s because they didn’t notice he had 74 rebounds in a game we lost by 45.

This year is actually for real different, though.  The ensuing dread is there, make no mistake.  But this time it’s muscle memory, not the inevitable.  And there is one reason and one reason alone.  Not Andrew Wiggins, not Karl-Anthony Towns and not because they got rid of the pig pee troughs that made you get someone’s ocean spray on your trousers/shoes/beard.

No, the reason this year is different is because of Jimmy G. Buckets Esquire.

I won’t even go into his stats.  Yes, his numbers are off the charts low this year.  Sorry, your fantasy league is fucked.  I don’t care.  Numbers do not apply to Jimmy G.Q. Buckets.  Jimmy is like a Minnesota winter day, where the thermometer says 25 degrees but we all goddamn know it’s -10 with the wind chill.  Mr. Buckets is the reason your nose hairs are frozen the second you walk outside.  He’s that sound the snow makes when it’s so cold it feels like you’re stepping on Styrofoam.  You can’t quantify this shit.

We’ve never had a player like this since Kevin Garnett.  Kevin Love was more concerned about his “Numbers”.  Ricky Rubio tried so hard but ultimately was like an adorable Red Bull flugtag in a 747 race.  Al Jefferson did whatever Al Jefferson did.

This feels different.  I had nosebleed seats at the Target Center during the Hornets game and average Minnesotans in camouflage up there were getting excited.  These people rub deer urine on themselves on purpose.  It’s happening.

Thank you, Jimmy GG Allin Buckets.

Next up we play Golden State in Oakland.  Maybe two of their players will get hurt and we’ll only have to go up against the other two top 15 players in the league?

Go Wolves!!!

 

My album is officially out NOW! Please download it on iTunes and share online. It debuted at #10 on the iTunes comedy chart and I want to get it to #1. Thanks everybody! Mike Brody Available Now Square

Darren Collison, Karl-Anthony Towns

(AP Photo/Jim Mone)

Well, that was some sad sack shit.

The Minnesota Timberwolves just got their nipples handed to them 130-107 by the headless husk of the Indiana Pacers, without Myles Turner, at HOME.  There are few words that accurately describe how embarrassing and disheartening this loss was.  Discommodious?  Unpropitious?  Timberwolvesian?

Yeah, we didn’t have Jimmy Butler, who was out with an upper respiratory illness and with our luck will be dead by Friday.  However, that doesn’t account for how bad we were without ONE player.  If we are going to make the Western Conference Playoffs for the first time since “The Notebook” was released in theaters, then we cannot lose games like this.  We have to be perfect from now on.  We have to go back in time and win every single game since 1989.  We have to steal Michael Beasley’s weed, convince Stephon Marbury that Minneapolis is China and then sign David Kahn up for adoption to Charles Lindberg circa 1912 or whenever he was born.  That’s how perfect we have to be.

How is it that year after year, no matter who the players or coaches are, we are still the same lousy Timberwolves?  We are like the town from “It”, where the faces change but the clown remains the same.  There were actually boos at the Target Center last night.  Do you know how hard it is to make Minnesotans boo?  We would rather cut off our fingers and put them in our lutefisk than show emotion in public.  All of our emoticons on our phones are the same blank face.  We booed these punks.  I’m pretty sure someone from St. Cloud is self-flagellating themselves in a closet right now for expressing sentiment in public.

emoticon

The all-purpose, all-emotion emoticon of Minnesota.

Some of our bandwagon fans this year are probably wondering how us Minnesotans deal with all this year in and year out?  Here’s five quick, easy steps:

  1. Displace your anger –  Push it way, way down.  Don’t address it mentally or verbally.  Let it come out sideways towards your co-workers when they take too long at the copier.
  2. Get depressed – It’s gonna happen anyway due to lack of sunlight and vitamin D during the winter, so why not blame it on things that are out of your control like grown men who can’t achieve mediocrity at the sport they’re paid to play?
  3. Eat – Get fat.  Get real fat.
  4. Next year – Oh man, we’re gonna be good next year.

We play again tonight against the Pistons in Detroit.  Jimmy Butler is out again (RIP J-Buckets).  Let’s win this shit so we can all pretend, in true Minnesota fashion, like last night didn’t happen and everything’s fine.  Repress, rinse, repeat.

GO WOLVES!!!

TimberwolvesTwitter

Photo from twitter.com/Timberwolves

I literally say this every year, but WE ARE GOING TO BE AWESOME THIS YEAR!  Every time I’ve said that in the past has been a bullshit lie and I knew it.  I mean, yes, I believed it at the time.  Yet, deep down I knew we would never win with Alexey Shved at anything other than a “Saddest Russian” contest?  Every year leading up to this I’ve just been trying to justify spending large portions of my adult life staking my happiness on 12 random men who aren’t even really from Minnesota mostly (‘sup, Tyus).

But this year is different.  This year, we might actually play an NBA game in May.  Has there been a Timberwolves game played in warm weather since Kanye West’s first album?  Dude’s like 40 now.  90% of the league doesn’t even know we can grow deciduous trees.  Anyway, we had a SUPER busy off-season and I will now grade each major move we made one by one, because I am a super qualified judge of basketball:

Minnesota trades Zach LaVine, Kris Dunn and the #7 pick to the Chicago Bulls for Jimmy Butler and the #16 pick.  

A+

Zach LaVine is a slam-dunk champion who just wrecked his ACL.  That’s like a masseuse whose arms fell off.  Nobody wants a hook massage.  Kris Dunn is horrible.  Every single YouTube clip of him “breaking ankles” ends before the shot nears the rim because he shot like 2.5% from the field.  I think Kris Dunn is actually a Lacrosse player who accidentally walked into the NBA draft and they picked him anyway.  And the #7 pick ended up being some Finnish dude who I know next to nothing about but the Bulls chose him, so he surely sucks.  We fleeced these bitches!

Minnesota trades Ricky Rubio to the Utah Jazz for a 2018 1st round pick.  

G-

I made up a grade lower than F because I’m so upset.   I had to take my signed, framed Ricky Rubio photo out of my office and put it in the basement earlier this summer. I knew he was going to get traded and I had to start mentally distancing myself.  I’ll never change this face, Ricky!  I would have “Thelma & Louise”ed right off this cliff with you!

Minnesota renounces rights to Shabazz Muhammad, Brandon Rush, Adreian Payne, and Omri Casspi.

A+

Listen, anything that gets rid of Adreian Payne is an A+.  Drop Payne, Jimmy Butler and move the team to Belarus?  A+!  Not only does he look 45 at 25 somehow, but his ridiculously spelled first name has way too many vowels in it.  It’s like his mom was playing Scrabble when he was born and the doctor knocked the board over and she just went with it.  Oh, and he sucks.

Minnesota signs Taj Gibson 

B+

I like Taj.  Yeah, he’s kind of past his prime and a little expensive, but so is HBO and that shit is good for at least three months out of the year.

Minnesota signs Jeff Teague

No grade

I will not acknowledge Jeff Teague as a human being until he apologies for breathing the air that Ricky would be breathing if he were here.

Minnesota signs Jamal Crawford 

B-

Fuck it, why not? He’s super old and kind of like clicking on the “I’m Feeling Lucky” button on Google.  What’s the worst that can happen?  (Do NOT say Brandon Roy, Kevin Garnett 2.0 or Sam Cassell after the big nuts dance tore his hamstring.)

Minnesota signs Shabazz Muhammad for peanuts after he turned down a $44 million contract with us earlier in the summer. 

A+

One time I got addicted to Ebay and bought an Ullr (the Nordic god of skiing and archery) pendant for $250 after getting into a bidding war with what in retrospect was surely someone in cahoots with the owner.  A year later I sold it on Ebay for $5.  This is how Shabazz must feel.

Minnesota signs Albert Brooks for an undisclosed amount of money.  (It’s actually Aaron Brooks, but I accidentally typed Albert Brooks and I loved him in “Finding Dory” so I’m keeping it.)

A+ for Albert Brooks, C for Aaron Brooks.

Minnesota reportedly offers Andrew Wiggins a five-year $148 million contract.

A+

It’s a little high, but I love Wiggins and the good news is this is in Canadian money.  The exchange on this is actually $3 million USD and two Tragically Hip CDs.

The new jerseys 

A

I like them.  They kind of look like a gas station, but one that sells Pepsi Max.  Like…a GOOD gas station.  You can definitely get a fruit cup and poop in the toilet without getting hepatitis.

Our first preseason game of the year is on September 30 against the Lakers in Los Angeles.  Let’s see if Lonzo’s newest $500 shoes can make it through the exhibition season.

GO WOLVES!

 

 

My Lost Weekend

Posted: 09/25/2017 in Uncategorized

Hey Timberwolves fans!  You may have noticed I haven’t posted all summer.  Why would I go dark during the most notable Wolves offseason since cellphones were invented?  BECAUSE, I was busy writing, recording and editing my brand new stand-up comedy album, “Sell My Bridge”, which is due out on Friday, October 27, on Rooftop Comedy.  You can get a physical copy from Rooftop Comedy’s website or download on iTunes or stream on Spotify, Pandora and all the other modes.

Coming this week:  My step-by-step grades for all the Timberwolves offseason moves.

See you soon, Timberbitches.

 

WarriorsFan1

A Golden State Warriors fan celebrates having finally sold all his Miami Heat gear. Photo from media.10news.com

Fuck Golden State Warriors fans.

Warriors fans outside of California are like Canadians who tip.  They don’t exist.  These fake posers didn’t even know who the Warriors were until Dell Curry’s and Mychal Thompson’s sons showed up.  Wherever I go now I see every damn person wearing Golden State gear as if that beanie weren’t a Lakers one five years ago, a Heat one three years ago, a Cavs one two years ago.  Hey jerky, I got a safe team for you to sport:  Check out the Harlem Globetrotters.  They never lose!

And fuck Kevin Durant.

You don’t join the team that beat you.  Michael Jordan didn’t join the Pistons in 1989.  I didn’t join the people who depantsed me everyday in 3rd grade, pulling down my own pants trying to get approval just because I wanted to be on “the winning team”.  No.  I suffered alone and then carried all my baggage into my 30s, because that’s what adults do!

But fuck Golden State Warriors fans even more.

Seriously, you’re gonna act like this is “your team”?  Name one player that played for that sorry-sack team after Run TMC and before Babyface McGrossmouthguardchew.  And if you don’t know who Run TMC is  I swear I will find you and slap the Hatchimal out of your hands because you are 12 and I am threatened by youth!

And fuck Kevin Durant again.

When did this whole “I just have a favorite player” thing start?  What a gutless way to always be winning.  I’m a Timberwolves fan until I die (or Glen Taylor accidentally sells them to another state for more Cosby sweaters). Being a Timberwolves fan is grueling, confusing and disheartening.  We are the most excited we’ve been in 13 years and we’re 11 games under .500.  Jared from Subway is going to get out of prison before we make the playoffs.  But damnit, this is our TEAM.  We don’t jump ship.  We support our team and hang tight until that special moment when we’re 95 on our deathbeds and all the marine life in the world has died and the air looks like the sky from “The Matrix” and Vince Carter is finally retiring and we say “Did the Timberwolves make the playoffs yet?  No?  Okay good, I don’t like change” and then we die.

WarriorsFan2

Next up we play the Warriors at home on Friday.  Fuck you posers!

GO WOLVES!