Excellent road map to coping with the NBA Draft Lottery results as a Wolves fan over at Grantland. There are just so many ways to say something is awesome, so I’ll just say it is.
I have no time to do a rundown/prediction of the NBA Conference Finals, but I will say this: Lance Stephenson isn’t going to replicate his Game 6 performance against New York against anyone, much less an ailing Dwyane Wade. Tyler Mad Dog Hansbrough will get suspended for being himself. David West will be Indy’s most consistent performer and Roy Hibbert will play like Miami has nobody who can guard him. Both of them don’t really.
But it doesn’t matter because Miami scores off turnovers and Indy turns it over. Miami’s shooters will keep Indiana’s thuggishness in check. The way these playoffs have gone, bigs have held serve and as teams that depend on small ball have run out of ammunition in the slow, slog that is the postseason. But not this time. My prediction? Small ball for the win.
Joe Mande (@joemande) is a stand-up comedian and a writer for Parks and Recreation. He is awesome.
If you truly want to know what it feels like to root for the Minnesota Timberwolves, all you have to do is watch the NBA draft lottery. The lottery plays out the exact same way every year. The night starts off with a feeling of dread, as you recall the disappointing season that’s led to this moment: all the errant passes, the fluke injuries, the missed dunks. Then the ceremony begins — those stupid ping-pong balls start bouncing around in that dumb plastic bin — and no matter how hard you try to fight it, you can’t help but fantasize a little bit. You start to think maybe this is the year the Timberwolves’ luck changes. Maybe this is the year they jump up in the draft and get that missing piece they need. Maybe this is the year they reach their true potential. Then suddenly all those stupid ping-pong balls are taken out of that dumb bin, Cleveland is handed the no. 1 pick, Minnesota hasn’t moved up in the draft at all, and we’re back to feeling that familiar sense of dread.
It’s the five stages of lottery-related grief. Welcome to Minnesota.