Message from the Phantom Blogger

Big news coming to this web-world tomorrow.

Big news.

Get ready blogging nation--the fun has just begun.

--With the love of a raised leg,
The Phantom Blogger

Happy Easter... err, plus one week

The McCord family celebrated a fantastic Easter last week with the ceremonial eating of roast beast (ham), Irish dollars (potatoes) and some grass (salad).

Oh, and we practiced the time-old tradition of egg-dying.

Happy Easter.

And Happy-Sunday-after-Easter.

A Tale of Two Fans, and a Tale of Two Fans

Wife and I have had a NBA heavy week. Monday we were in San Antonio, to celebrate (among other things) Spring Break, St Patty's Day, and the Celtics being in town. We proudly donned our green, remembered the Alamo, had a second helping of chips & salsa, and rooted the C's to a come-from-behind victory.

Tuesday was historic as the Celtics then traveled to Houston and took on the Rockets (who were--stress WERE--on a 22-game winning streak). We shared in traveling back to Plano (through wind, rain, outlet malls and more) and watched the Emmy-worthy coverage on TNT as the C's unleashed a stifling defense to beat Houston.

Then came Thursday, when the Celtics traveled here, to Dallas, to take on the sliding Mavericks. It was a very good game, but in the end good prevailed over evil as the Celtics won.

This marks a season sweep of all three Texas teams for Boston. 2-0 versus San Antonio. 2-0 versus Dallas. 2-0 versus Houston.

The last team to successfully sweep all three in the same season was the Sacramento Kings in 2001. Boston has not done such since the 86-87 season, and its only the 4th time in 13 tries for them to do so.

So things are well in the land of the Leprechauns. It's been magically delicioso for certain.

Amongst all of the winning and NBA dominance that we saw, there was a revelation. The revelation first came to Wife, and then to yours truly.

What's the deal with the 'Fan'?

Fan #1. Let's call him Miguel. He sat behind us in San Antonio. He was late 50's, and donned his Spurs jersey sans undershirt. It was very smartly tucked into his Wranglers that left nothing of Little Miguel to imagine. Miguel had the Spurs logo tattooed on his arm. Yes, I'm serious. Miguel was what I'll call the "near-sighted fan." He knew the names of his players, but not the names of the opposing team. So, when he would call out the other team--he would yell Ray Joe Rondo (add a thick accent) to Rajon (pronounced Rah John) Rondo; he would say Sam Cassell's name as Sam Castle; and if he didn't know ANY of the player's name--well, he defaulted to calling them Kevin Garnett. That left us with the weird moments where there might be three or four Kevin Garnett's on the floor.

Now I can't completely fault Miguel for not knowing the complete rosters of both teams--not everyone is as endeared towards NBA nerdom as I am. However, Miguel's near-sightedness was not only displayed in his lack of cross-team knowledge, but also in being unable to accurately place blame or admit blame.

When the Spurs had a foul called against them--Miguel flipped his South Texas lid. How dare the refs call something. When the Celtics had a foul called against them--Miguel would stand, beat his chest, and air-hump the back of my noggin.

Miguel was passionate to the point of being unable to see past the ink-covered flesh on his arm.

Fan #2 (and her boyfriend). Let's call Fan #2 Shelly. Shelly lives in Dallas. She was a waitress in college and thinks she was the first person to like Sara Bareilles. She dates this guy, Gavin, who's got a full beard and wears Van slip ons. They're indie. But Gavin loves the Mavs. So Shelly loves the Mavs.

Therein lies the problem.

Gavin & Shelly sat behind us at the American Airlines Center on Thursday. Gavin may have a little sports quid-pro quo in his arsenal. He listens to local sports talk and then repeats the opinions he hears to Shelly. So Shelly then tries to express her limited sports knowledge through blood-curdling screaming, using very generic basketball lingo ("set it up", "cross-court", "top of the key") in a repetitive fashion, and assigning overall good qualities to professional basketball players ("Jason Kidd is an amazing person. He's so selfless and humble.").

Shelly's problem is that she's not a fan. She's a fan-by-association-------which is fine until you try to exert fan-like knowledge.

I think the overriding problem I have with both of these fans, and both of these scenarios, is that I just don't get it. Call me crazy--but I believe that perfect fannery exists in your realistic knowledge of your team, not painting your face. Perfect fannery exists in understanding that your players may not be the best--may not be the most athletic--may not get all of the calls. For me, perfect fannery does not include external displays of passion--such as cheers, jeers, yelling, screaming, whining, or celebrating. Hi-fives are perfectly normal, as are fist bumps if you are of the urban persuasion.

Perfect fannery can include wearing 1 item promoting your team... be it jersey, t-shirt, warm-up, hoodie, hat or other. However, I believe you should never wear more than 1 item--no hat + jersey with color-coordinated shoes. Perfect fannery means realism, in all situations. Perfect fannery means Wife will wear a Celtics jersey, go to the game and root for my favorite team--however, if the Mavs happen to use the clapping soundbite from the Cha Cha slide, she may clap along--that's fine, because its not her fannery at risk, its mine.

Perfect fannery means making an attempt to learn the names of the opposing team, understanding the penalties of the games you are watching, and having an intelligent opinion in all situations.

Perfect fannery means your week isn't ruined when your team loses. You can be upset--that's natural--but let's not let our work or relationships suffer over it.

Finally, perfect fannery means that you can only be truly passionate about 1 sports organization. Your blood can only bleed one sports color. You can root for me--but you can only die for one.

a rambling man on presciption drugs

STORY #1
Up until now the similarities between your author and Paul Pierce have been slim. I love the Celtics. He is a Celtic. I know that in the song "California Love" Tupac recognizes Inglewood as being "up to no good." He grew up in Inglewood, CA. Pierce played his college ball at Kansas. I lived with a guy from Kansas for two years. Yes, he is one of my idols in life, but, no, no, we're not that much alike.

Until now.

On September 25, 2000, Pierce was at a Boston nightclub where an incident took place. That incident led to him being stabbed 11 times, suffering injuries to his face, neck, back and lungs. Pierce underwent major lung surgery to recover.

On Friday, March 7, 2008, I was stabbed. I was stabbed by a Doctor (who meant to be stabbing me) while undergoing surgery.

And thus, Paul and I are closer now than ever.

STORY #2
Up until now the similarities between your author and Allen Iverson have been even slimmer. Iverson won the 2001 All-Star Game MVP. I watched the 2001 All-Star Game. Iverson married a woman named Tiwanna. I have often wanted to see Tijuana. Iverson has an infamous quote where he uses the term "practice" 21 times in a matter of moments. I have heard the clip of his press conference at least 21 times. Iverson is one of my favorite NBA players, but we don't have really anything in common, until now.

In 1997 Iverson had a warrant out for his arrest for possession of marijuana. He plead no contest.

Recently I received a voicemail from the Haltom City Courthouse letting me know that I had a warrant out for my arrest for a speeding ticket that was unpaid. I plead no contest.

And thus, AI and I are 'boys.' He runs in my crew.

STORY #3
Robert Redford is one of my favorite actors. He and I have, well, some things alike. He was born in California and went to Colorado University to play baseball. I was born in Texas and stayed in Texas for school. He was a member of the Kappa Sigma Fraternity. I was a member of the Kappa Sigma Fraternity. He received fame and notoriety for Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, where he starred opposite of Paul Newman. My notoriety is really limited to you reading this and, well, I enjoy Paul Newman's spaghetti sauce.

Nonetheless, Redford and I took another step in becoming closer this weekend.

Redford started a little film festival called Sundance, which has grown to be one of the most notable film festivals in the world.

This weekend, post-op and while medicated, I've had a little film festival of my own. Here is a list of what I've watched: LA Cofidential, Spinal Tap, the Indiana Jones Trilogy, Entourage Season 3 Pt 2, Pirates of the Carribean 3: At World's End, The Untouchables, two episodes of Saturday Night Live, parts of The Office Season 3 and parts of How I Met Your Mother Season 2. And the days not over. I've nothing but time on my hands and fuzziness in my vision.

Party on, post-ops. Good stories a plenty shall be had.