Posts Tagged ‘zach lavine’

basketball-eggs-2290821

Photo from thumbs.dreamstime.com

Okay, so the Timberwolves Nation got a little ahead of ourselves.  We won three in a row, anointed ourselves the new NBA Champions and then in truly Wolves-y fashion got our asses handed to us by a 55 year old German, Steph Curry’s supposed brother and JJ-freaking-Barea.  Getting schooled by Barea is like an ex-girlfriend suddenly dating George Clooney.  It’s confusing and they don’t deserve it.

A lot of Wolves fans are beginning to question whether Zach LaVine is the cause of this pendulum swing.  He got hurt, we won three, then he comes back and we lose badly.  It’s not LaVine.  It’s because we are a very talented, young team that is better at sharing Snapchat pics than the ball.  And as Wolves fans we’ve spent the better part of a decade and a half wildly blaming everything and everyone in the organization short of official Timberwolves DJ, Mad Mardigan, who admittedly I haven’t seen practicing free throws.  Here’s a list of people who’ve been blamed for all of our woes over the years and the criticisms lobbed at them:

Glen Taylor –  (Cheapskate, creepy, only hires friends, looks like an emaciated Kelsey Grammer)

Kevin Garnett’s supporting cast – (They were just KG’s friends signed to huge contracts, Troy Hudson’s rap album was the only thing worse than his game, Latrell Sprewell turned down a $14 million contract because “I need to feed my kids” which means his kids apparently ate diamonds, Sam Cassell hurt himself doing a “Big Balls” dance which is less a criticism than an awesome fact.)

Kevin McHale – (Gifted the Boston Celtics a championship by trading Kevin Garnett for two Bob Cousy basketball cards and Aerosmith’s “Get A Grip” CD, looks like Frankenstein if he left his clothes hanger in his sport coat)

David Kahn – (Everything you can possibly imagine and it’s all true)

Jonny Flynn – (We do not speak of him outloud but at least the “H” in “Johnny” knew what was up and got out)

Kurt Rambis – (A shitty version of Phil Jackson, wouldn’t even wear his dork glasses which is the only reason anybody ever really liked him)

Kevin Love – (Primadonna, two-faced, stat-stuffer, Benedict Arnold, won a championship without us and doesn’t seem sad enough about it)

Ricky Rubio – (Can’t shoot, drafted before Steph Curry, too handsome and huggable, doesn’t break ankles like Kris Dunn even though Kris Dunn hasn’t made one shot after those moves and you’re all 14 years old)

Andrew Wiggins – (Too Canadian/nice, isn’t LeBron James in his third year, analytics nerds who play more NBA 2K than actual basketball think he is the worst player since the chubby kid from “Teen Wolf”)

Thibs – (Hasn’t made us perfect after 41 games, somehow has hair and is bald at the same time, won’t play Brandon Rush for unknown reasons which maybe include Rush hitting on Thibs’ non-existent wife)

Zach LaVine – (Possibly made us lose one game against Dallas)

Relax, Wolves fans.  Someday we are going to be great.  Or we’ll screw it up, lose all our players and do the same thing for another 15 years.   Enjoy!

Next up we play the Spurs in San Antonio.  Maybe this will be one of those games where Popp sits all his players just to piss people off?

GO WOLVES!!!

 

thibsyelling

Photo from img.apmcdn.org

Minnesota Timberwolves head coach Tom Thibodeau is a loud son of a bitch.  His voice cuts through all the noise during a game and his is almost all you hear whether you’re watching at home, at the game or listening to a death metal band at the State Theater down the street.  He sounds like what I imagine Tom Waits would if you were punching him while he was taking a poop.

Thibs’ demeanor often gets judged, but what people don’t know is that underneath it all he’s just misunderstood.  I grew up in Iowa amongst farmers who didn’t know how to express their emotions except for grunts and barks and I am fluent in Cookie Monster.  So here’s my translation guide to understanding the true, surprisingly sensitive meaning of Thibodeau’s guttural outbursts on the sideline:

“GO GET IT!!!” – Translation:  “Our dreams are only obtainable if we go for them.  Find your spirit animal.  Mine’s a giant panda that yells at his bamboo.”

“ICE!” – Translation: “Ah shit, Dwight Howard is shooting free throws.  We’re all getting Cherry Berry!”

“RICKY!” – Translation:  Change this face.  Be happy.  Enjoy!

“KARL!!!” – Translation:  “You are the future of our team, Karl.  You’re a lovely human being and I want you to be my Tim Duncan.  That Karlito alter-ego thing is a bit weird but hey I don’t have any real human relationships because of my bunkering down Cold War era style watching constant loops of Jimmy Butler driving to the game in the hidden camera I installed in his car.  Also, please stop shooting those threes.”

“JOHN LUCAS III!!!” – Translation:  “Is John Lucas III still on our team?”

WHAT THE FUCK?! – Translation:  “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Practice is important. The regular season is important. Your meetings are important. Your walk-through is important. Everything is important. You want to be a championship team, there’s a price to pay. And that’s what you have to do. There’s no shortcuts. You can’t shortcut your way to success.” – Translation: “WHAT THE FUCK?!?!”

“*gurgling noise*” – Translation:  “I had too much pastrami before the game and my heart-attack is imminent.”

Next up we play the Rockets at home on Wednesday.  If we can build a 25 point lead with 2 minutes left in regulation maybe we’ll only lose by ten?

GO WOLVES!

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!

frostywolves

Timberpups Howl!

The Minnesota Timberwolves are going to be good this year.  Of course I say that every season, but this time I mean it.  Yeah, we haven’t had a winning season for the entirety of this blog’s existence and the first post was literally about how we were finally going to be good that year.  But no joke we are probably going to possibly maybe not suck this year.  Did I jinx it?  Crap, I think I just jinxed it.

This isn’t like the time I thought Anthony Bennett was going to learn how to play basketball, or the time I pretended like Nikola Pekovic wasn’t Greg Oden with none of the talent and more of the drinking problem.  This is legit.  We are just like the 2009 Oklahoma City Thunder.  A very young team bursting with talent, who gradually grew from phenoms to a perennial title contender, only to be inevitably decimated and broken up by egos and Big Market aspirations.  Shit.

Here’s why I think we’re actually going to be awesome this year:  Damnit, it’s our turn.  I know that life isn’t about fairness but our season has ended in April for so many years that I’m not even sure that NBA players know Minnesota has warm weather anymore.  I don’t think the NBA is rigged, but they should 100% rig this season to give us at least a 45 win season.  45 wins!  I don’t think that’s greedy.   Just enough to give us an 8th seed in the Western Conference.  Then everybody will get to see Minneapolis in the springtime.  We’ll show everybody Dinkytown and the 30,000 apartment buildings that Bob Dylan might have slept in according to all the landlords.  We’ll take people pontooning and warn them about the dangers of speading Zebra Mussels.  Hell, we can even let people see St. Paul if they’re into trees or sleeping or something.  You know, the Minnesota experience.

This is our year.

Knock on wood.

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Photo from hofmag.com

First game of the season is against The Grizzlies in Memphis on October 26.  Remember when they were the Vancouver Grizzlies before cell phones existed?  We were good then!

GO WOLVES!

 

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!

Photo from washingtonpost.com

Photo from washingtonpost.com

Supposedly, this was a really exciting All-Star Weekend.  Apparently Steph Curry made 13 straight shots to win the Three Point Contest.  I guess Andrew Wiggins got MVP in the Rising Stars Challenge.  Rumor has it that Russell Westbrook stopped dressing like Urkel for long enough to win the All-Star Game MVP on 41 points.  I wouldn’t know, because my brain has been melted into anesthesia because of this:

Holy Mary Mother of Jordan, did you see that?  There are coked-up kangaroos that can’t jump that high.  They need to check those shoes for illegal Flubber!  How can a human do this?  I can’t even tie my shoes without grunting and peeing a tiny bit.  The only way he’ll be able to top this next year is if he does 30 cartwheels in a row while on fire.

And he wasn’t even done yet.  He had three more mind-benders:

Admit it, you haven’t cared about the Slam Dunk Contest in years.  They’ve paraded out a long line of lame rookies and future D-Leaguers.  I think they let Paul McCartney do it in 2010.  When a star does do it, it’s only because they got paid $1,000,000 to jump over a Kia hood or wink and eat a Johnsonville Brat off the backboard.  Weak, weak, weak.

But Zach LaVine changed all that faster than Allen Iverson can ruin a bowling night.  He didn’t use any props and he didn’t yell “State Farm!” midair.  He just used good, old-fashioned, unearthly hops.  And a star was born.  Now, as Timberwolves fans, we aren’t going to tell anybody that at this point LaVine doesn’t know how to pass or hold onto the ball or understand plays.  That’s our little secret.  Right now the league’s fans think that between Wiggins and LaVine we have the next Durant/Westbrook.  Bless their souls.  Join the bandwagon, people!  Trust me, there’s lots of room!

Next up the Wolves play the perennially 9th seeded Suns in Phoenix on Friday.  The trade deadline is the same day.  Will Goran Dragic even be around by then?  Will the Timberwolves trade for the Papa Smurf version of Kevin Garnett?  Will Zach LaVine try and wear his Space Jam jersey every game from now on?  Tune in and see.  Go Wolves!

ZACH

Photo from i.cdn.turner.com/

Zach LaVine has such a man-crush on Kobe Bryant.  The dude went for 28 points on 11-14 shooting in the breakout performance of his short career and still all he talked about in interviews was the Black Mamba.  He spoke about Bryant the way I speak about the guy who invented Rolo Minis.

INTERVIEWER: Zach LaVine, how do you feel about this win, as well as your career high output tonight?  It’s got to feel great. 

ZACH LAVINE: Do you think Kobe saw it?

INTERVIEWER: Saw the game?  Yes.  He played in it.  

ZL: Yeah, but do you think…wait…did you talk to Kobe on this microphone?  

INTERVIEWER: Yes, during halftime. 

*tusseling, fumbling noise* 

INTERVIEWER:  Give me…stop it!  Give me that microphone back!

ZL:  Everything I do, I do it for you, Kobe!  *Licks microphone and jumps over four foot wall* 

Zach couldn’t believe we won that game and neither could I.  Dear lord, how bad do the Lakers have to be to lose to us?  I’d almost feel bad for them if they hadn’t stolen our team (and five championships) some 50 years ago.  How did they sink this far?  They have one of the greatest players of this generation in his Depends years, a couple decent starters, Carlos Boozer and then the people who got turned down to be Washington Generals.

We’re not much better, but at least we have some kind of visible future.  All our young guys are showing promise:

Ricky Rubio:  He hurt his ankle while flying a hippogriff, but he really was making huge strides in his jump shot and strength.

Andrew Wiggins:  He’s going to be a stud.  We just need him to get angry and go nuclear.  Anybody know how to piss off a soft-spoken Canadian?  Can someone tear up a picture of Celine Dion, please?

Anthony Bennett:  I love Anthony Bennett!  Those tomahawk dunks!  That 20 footer!  His ability to look fat even when he’s skinny!  The fact that his name is TONY BENNETT!  He’s the greatest player to be a draft flop ever!

Gorgui Dieng:  Gorgui’s actually 45 years old, but Dikembe Mutombo played until he was 82 so we’re good.

Shabazz Muhammad:  Shabazz went from the scapegoat draft pick to fan favorite faster than you can sneak a girl into the Rookie Transition Program hotel.  I ain’t mad at ya, Shabazz.

Zach LaVine:  He plays like Russell Westbrook and Scottie Pippen when Kobe’s around.

Next up we play the Trail Blazers (12-4) in Portland on Sunday night.  Let’s hope Zach LaVine grew up watching Damian Lillard, otherwise they’re going to kill us.  Go Wolves!