Archive for December, 2013






I don’t even know what to say about this.  We can’t catch a break.  If we’re not shooting ourselves in the foot we’re getting criminally screwed by multiple refs.  I was so mad after this game that it actually woke up my deaf dog.  If you think I’m over-reacting, then listen to the the Wolves radio announcer FREAKING THE FUCK OUT.

I’m not an NBA conspiracy theorist.  I think that Tim Donaghy was just taking care of Tim Donaghy.  But it’s hard to look at this and not think that something was up.  Maybe the league doesn’t want the Timberwolves to make the playoffs because then Kevin Love will run to New York or Los Angeles and return hope to those flailing big-market teams?  Maybe they just hate us and don’t think we belong.  Or worse yet, maybe the refs JUST FUCKING SUCK AT THEIR JOB AND THEY DESERVE TO DIARRHEA OUT A DRAGON WHO’S ALSO DIARRHEA-ING OUT ANOTHER DRAGON WHO’S ALSO DIARRHEA-ING OUT A GRUMPY RIP TORN AND ALL OF THEM ARE BREATHING FIRE AND HOT SAUCE MADE OF ACID AND THE MELTED DREAMS OF TIMBERWOLVES FANS!

Next up, we play the Washington Generals.  Who we’re already slated to lose to at the buzzer.

Jack Sikma, Rick Adelman, Elston Turner



Hello Minnesota,

This is Derrick Williams.  You may remember me as the Timberwolves’ #2 pick in the 2011 draft, as well as being a generally confused and out of breath bench player.

A lot of people had high expectations for me because I was drafted so high, but I don’t think the circumstances were fair.  Everybody knows the only two franchise players in that draft were Kyrie Irving and Chukwudiebere Maduabum.  It’s not my fault!  In a normal draft I would have been picked 27th by the Iowa Energy.

Minnesota, I can’t lie to you.  I miss you.  It’s really not been working out like I’d hoped in Sacramento.  Jimmer farts a lot and DeMarcus Cousins punches me in the stomach every night so the bruises won’t show.  Rudy Gay keeps making me buy him lunch and paying me back with Canadian Loonies.  All of my paychecks have bounced.  I’ve had to find temporary employment at Keep It Clean Carpet Tile & Upholstery on Sunrise and Ascot.  Cleaning carpets is even more impossible than shooting a wide open layup without first double-pumping and then missing because of it!

Derrick Williams 2nd birthday party.  Photo from

Derrick Williams 2nd birthday party. Photo from

Take me back, Minnesota.  I have carpet cleaning experience and can get Alexey Shved’s sad, Russian tears off of a rug faster than the Wolves bench can put the team down by ten.  I’ll be Crunch.  Whatever you need!

I’m on a train home to Minneapolis right now.  You don’t have to take me back, but if you feel like it I’ll be Hubert’s Bar & Grill signing autographs.  But mostly serving drinks.  See you soon!


Derrick Williams

If Robbie Hummel weren’t a basketball player, he would totally work in HR.

I’ll admit, I’ve never had a real/non-performing job in my life and I’m probably basing this on “The Office”, but he just doesn’t look like a guy who would be doing anything other than methodically jotting down notes for a living while wearing a perfect pair of Dockers.  But who gives a shit, because Robbie came through big time last night. Not only did he have ten points in the fourth quarter, including a big three that started a run, but he defended his league-leading “Wait, is Chase Budinger back already?  Oh, that’s Robbie Hummel” stat to 17 games.

Robbie Hummel holding Chase Budinger's jersey. Photo from

Robbie Hummel holding Chase Budinger’s jersey. Photo from

Things didn’t look good out of the gate as the Timberwolves were down by 19 in the first quarter.  The first quarter!  That’s our quarter!  That’s like beating Miley Cyrus in a discolored tongue contest.  And it’s sure not supposed to happen with a Michael Carter-Williams-less 76ers.  Not only is that way too many hyphens for one man but the Sixers were supposed to challenge the worst record ever WITH a Michael Carter-Williams-ful-esque team.

If you’re reading this, you probably already know the outcome of the game.  I’m not Zach Lowe.  We came back and won.  Balls went in, hoops went woosh, Ricky Rubio went twirly-doo.  The most important thing is that we are back to .500 again, which puts us at 57th in the West.  Movin’ on up!

Next up, we play the San Antonio Spurs on the road in Texas, which is actually closer than our last cancelled “home” game against them in Mexico.  I haven’t checked the schedule, but I think our next game after that is a home game in the North Pole followed by an away game in Memphis with a lay-over in Helsinki.

Go Wolves!

A terrorized staff flee from the scene.  Photo from

A terrorized training staff flee for their lives. Photo from

The Joker, a villainous Batman enemy, struck an NBA game being held in Mexico City this Wednesday with an exploding laughing-gas bomb.  15 fatalities were reported, including Manu Ginobli, Spurs announcer Sean Elliott and Timberwolves starting point guard Ricky Rubio.  According to Wolves back-up Robbie Hummel, The Joker approached Rubio and whispered “Change this face. Be happy. Enjoy!” before squirting him in the face with a lapel-flower full of an unknown substance.

Memorial services will be held for Ricky Rubio this Sunday.  Photo from

A public memorial service will be held for Ricky Rubio (pictured) this Sunday at the Solera restaurant downtown.  Photo from

Several witnesses described a normal pre-game warm-up for the Minnesota Timberwolves and the San Antonio Spurs, when suddenly late-80s era Prince began playing loudly.  Reportedly, a purple-clad man with a boombox followed by several henchmen yelled “This town needs an enema!” as poisonous gas flowed from the arena’s vents. The man, later identified as the Joker, danced down to the court twirling a baton, then handed an orange gas-mask to Tiago Splitter, who he mistook for Kim Basinger.

According to Commissioner Gordon, this isn’t the first time The Joker has struck the NBA.  Officials believe that he is responsible for the several of Daryl Dawkins’ backboard shatterings and those ugly-ass alternate sleeve-jerseys that nobody likes.

Batman could not be reached for comment, as he was reportedly out with a knuckle push-up injury.

Photo from

The Ghost Of Christmas Past – 2004. Photo from

Dear Santa,

I know you don’t exist.  When I was six “Santa” brought me an “Operation” board game for Christmas.  My sister got “Hungry Hungry Hippos.”  I was ecstatic.  Then my dad suddenly popped up and exclaims “Santa made a mistake!” and switched the games between the two of us.  I learned to love “Hungry Hungry Hippos” but I wasn’t stupid. I asked my dad that night if Santa was real and he said “Nope!” with the relief of a man who had to buy one less present from now on.

However, just like I can’t prove if existence or God or Alabama really exists, I can’t be 100% sure that you don’t either.  Even if there’s a 000.1% chance, it’s worth a shot.  So I’m covering all my bases and writing you a letter, as well as the Pope, Hillary Clinton and Dustin Diamond.  Which one of you is the most powerful?  I don’t know, but it’d sure suck to be outdone by Screech, wouldn’t it, Santa?

So please, please Santa…all I want for Christmas is for the Minnesota Timberwolves to make the NBA playoffs this year.  I had hair the last time they did.  And I’ve been bald for a really long time.  Smartphones also didn’t exist.  Cleveland was getting ready to win about ten championships in a row.  For fuck’s sake, Hoobastank was still popular!

Yes, I’m aware that there are other things that I could wish for, like world peace or an end to starvation and disease.  But we all know that’s not really your specialty anyway.  I’ve seen Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer.  You’re kind of a dick.  Your expertise is in pure capitalism and you don’t like highfalutin dentist elves.

So how about a deal?  If you make sure the Timberwolves make the playoffs (and by extension make Kevin Love resign with us) you can have JJ Barea.  He is elf sized and has no goals of being a dentist that I’m aware of.  He’s also married to Miss Universe.  Who knows?  Maybe she could be the new Mrs. Claus once ol’ Jose takes a dive off a snow-cliff while looking for the Abominable Snowman?

Please think about it.

Mike Brody
Minneapolis, MN

P.S.  While you’re at it can you give Ricky Rubio a jump shot?  And show Pek how to dunk?  And teach Kevin Love defense?  Also, please kick David Kahn in the face.  And make Stephon Marbury believe he’s a hamster.  Thanks!