Posts Tagged ‘jimmy butler’

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!!!

 

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!!!