Posts Tagged ‘sam mitchell’

cst 64362 Wolves vs. Dallas

So I was in Australia for a few weeks and missed a bunch of Timberwolves games.  Believe it or not they don’t get Fox Sports North down there, only cooking channels dedicated to Vegemite-fried wallabies on a stick.  So what did I miss?  We went 8-0 right?

Oh, we went 2-7.  Sad koalas. My god, we could lose more games under Tom Thibodeau than Sam Mitchell. That’s like a blindfolded and drunk DeAndre Jordan beating Steph Curry in a free-throw challenge. I guess we need to pump the brakes on this whole “We’re going to make the playoffs this year” train.  Which leads me to the most painful sentence I’ve had to type since “I think I’m going to get hemorrhoid surgery”:

It’s time to trade Ricky Rubio.

Listen, I love Ricky.  He’s my favorite Timberwolf after KAT and Wiggins and Lavine and Crunch.  I have defended Ricky at every turn for every game he’s been here. But he needed to make a significant jump forward this year and he’s managed to go backwards.  Ricky’s only averaging 6.7 assists per game. Dude, you can’t score.  You HAVE to get more assists otherwise you’re just a guy who might as well be mopping or ironing one of Pekovic’s 400 injury suits.  And he clearly doesn’t fit in with whatever Thibs is screaming about on the sidelines.

tomthib

“RICKY! DID YOU REMEMBER TO TURN YOUR STOVE OFF?!??!”

Ugh, this sucks.  I don’t want to break up with Ricky.  It’s the hardest thing I’ll ever have to do.  To look you in the eye and tell you I don’t love you.  It’s the hardest thing I’ll ever have to lie.  To show no emotion when you start to cry.

Ricky…no.  No, I know you hit a three last night.  That was great, but it’s too late.  Stop it.  Ricky, change this face.  Be happy.  Enjoy!

Next up we play we play the Spurs, beginning a six game run that continues with the Raptors, Pistons, Warriors, Bulls and Rockets.  I’m no Nostradamus but I think we’re fucked.

GO WOLVES!

I haven’t written a Timberwolves blog in a long time.  How could I, when Sam Mitchell has beaten, slapped, squeezed, tea-bagged and Timberwolved all the joy out of everything that made the team fun?  My heart is broken, like Zach LaVine finding out Space Jam isn’t real.

I got depressed.  I didn’t want to write 20 blogs in a row about my burning hatred of Mitchell and how I JUST KNOW they’re going to hire that human centipede full time this summer.  How we’ll sign Karl-Anthony Towns’ alter-ego “Karlito” and then pick up “Lil’ Penny” to make him feel more at home.  Then we’ll trade for some geezer named “Jellybean” who was old enough to play in Morris Day & The Time and start him over one of our future All-Stars because “I’m Sam Mitchell and I know everything, except how stupid having one earring looks on a grown man in 2016.  And basketball.”

Being a Timberwolves fan is like going to a mall with tons of cool stores that all promise to be open next year.  What are we supposed to do in the meantime?  Enjoy this kiosk?  I don’t want a Superman belt-buckle or hermit crabs, I want goddamn Lego Land open!  This mall has been under construction for 14 years!  Our losing record can almost legally drive to this hypothetical mall!

sad-panda

Timberwolves fans from 2004-present

A break was needed.  But now I’m back.  I’m back for all the highs and lows and lows and lows.  I’m back for Bill Simmons actually saying the first nice thing he’s ever said about the Timberwolves.  I’m back for our future draft pick and rising stars, even though it’s less clear who’s steering this ship than who’s running the Illuminati.  I’m back for the soon-to-be-refurbished stadium, because when this beast was built Heavy D & The Boys were still cutting edge.

Just please…whoever’s calling the shots out there in Timberwolf Land – don’t hire Sam Mitchell.  I’ll take anybody else.  I’ll take Kurt Rambis, the panda from above, the weird hitch-hiking robot from Canada that New Jersey destroyed.  I’ll take this other Sam Mitchell, who I accidentally found in a Google search and seems to be some kind of rugby/cricket/white-person-ball player from Tasmania who dresses like a sporty bumblebee:

sam-mitchell-other

I bet he’d play Towns

Next up we play the Clippers in Minneapolis.  Blake Griffin is almost back from his suspension for punching a staff member.  Suddenly I want him on our team.

Go Wolves!

 

Photo from layovertips.com/

Photo from layovertips.com/

The Minnesota Timberwolves are ass-backwards right now.  4-0 on the road and 0-3 at home.  My first instinct is to burn the Target Center down, but I’m pretty sure it’s full of 1989 asbestos and Tony Campbell’s spare tires.  We can’t risk poisoning Prince on the one day a year he goes out to buy purple shoes.

It’s all perfectly explainable.

November 2 against the Portland Trailblazers – 

Even Blazers fans know the referees screwed us.  OJ’s verdict made more sense.  We can only hope that the Blazers end up stealing some sports memorabilia, go to prison for 20 years and write a book called “If We Did It – The Story Of Paying The Refs”.  Glen Taylor must have dry-humped Adam Silver’s mom at the sweetheart’s dance in 1916 to warrant this kind of hate.

November 5 against the Miami Heat – 

Sam Mitchell played Rubio, Towns and Wiggins a total of negative three minutes that game.  Dwayne Wade had 150 points.  Goran Dragic summoned Veles, the Slovenian dragon god of cattle and trickery, to intercede and make us forget how to play basketball.  Tom Brady deflated our balls.

November 7 against the Charlotte Hornets –

We didn’t have Rubio, Wiggins or KG in the line-up.  We also had to go up against Jeremy Lin and his giant, cartoonish fauxhawk, which should be illegal because it gives him three feet more space to flop with.  Lin is a devout Christian.  Well, buddy, the Ninth Commandment says “Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor.”  And according to this Wikipedia page I just read, the punishment for bearing false witness was having the same thing done back to you.  So…I guess if you’re a good Christian you will come back to Minneapolis and let 30 people pretend to get hit in the head by you.  That’ll show you!

“Finish him!” Photo from chocolateinformed.com

Next up we play Golden State Warriors at home. Oh boy.  Nothing says breaking a home losing streak like playing arguably the most dominant team since the ’96 Bulls.  Veles, be with us!

Alzheimer patient Sam Mitchell tries to remember who's on his team. Photo from nba.cdn.turner.com/

Alzheimer patient Sam Mitchell tries to remember who’s on his team. Photo from nba.cdn.turner.com/

The difference between two games can be startling.  One minute you’re hopelessly falling into Kurt Rambis 2.0 Land and the next you’re beating a Eastern Conference contender on the road and dreaming of 80-2.  Damnit Wolves, you’re never boring.

After Thursday’s game, I was in a depression spiral about our team.  I could never be an NBA coach.  I couldn’t even coach third graders shooting at a Nerf hoop.  But I think I could be a better coach than Sam Mitchell.

How in the hell do you play Karl-Anthony Towns for only 22 minutes?  And Ricky Rubio for 24?  It’s like we’re driving this fancy SUV to dinner and 1/4 of the way there we go “Fuck it, let’s take the unicycle.  No, no, let the drunk guy steer.”

It must be hard being an NBA coach, having idiots like me telling you how to do your occupation.  It’s a high-pressure, high-blame job and he got thrust into it out of necessity because of Flip’s passing.  BUT WHAT THE HELL, SAM?!   You don’t start someone if they’re old enough to have starred in Space Jam, okay?  I’ll give you a pass on KG because he’s the heart and soul of the team but the only thing Tayshaun Prince should be starting is his AARP subscription.

I wasn’t expecting a championship this year, or even making the playoffs.  But I expected to watch entertaining basketball where we got to see our young studs earn their chops in the fire.  Instead, we got mind-boggling rotations that seem to be picked by a drunk parakeet pecking at pictures taped to a wall.

I began to feel that familiar feeling of “we’re totally fucked and we’re going to have to sit through another long season of Kevin Martin holding onto the ball longer than it takes to charge a cellphone and Zach LaVine exhibiting the control of a methed-out Roller Girl.”

Then Saturday happened AND WE ARE THE GREATEST!

Karl-Anthony Towns is the next Tim Duncan/Karl Malone/Shaq/Jordan/Jesus!  Wiggins is literally made of superpowered maple leaves from Hell!  Zach LaVine is exactly the same!

And get this:  Ol’ Black Hole Chicken Wing Shot Kevin Martin misses a game and suddenly everybody gets the ball.  Unfortunately, he was out because of personal reasons involving his family.  That’s sad and I don’t like that, but I do think we can find a way to make him miss more games without personal tragedy or getting hurt.  I understand Martin is very polite.  I suggest we start inviting him to every birthday party, going away party and bris we can think of.  Tell him Pooh Richardson invited him to Burning Man, Crunch is getting married, Milt Newton is building a Kevin Martin shrine in Madagascar and he has to cut the ribbon.  I think if we do this right we can make him miss at least 75 out of the next 77 games.

Next up we play the 7-1 Hawks in Atlanta.  We’re 3-0 on the road but this is going to be a rough one.  Hopefully Dominique Wilkins will punch a guy again for non-payment on a suit and it’ll throw them off.

Go Wolves!