Your mayor may be dishonest and corrupt, and you may be suffering the irreversible consequences of having an undiversified economy, but at least the Pistons’ losing streak is over!

From ESPN.com’s Chris Sheridan, we bring you the early leader for Worst Metaphor of the Millennium, 2001-3000:

The gesture didn’t work and Curry missed the free throw, but it mattered not one iota on a night when the anxiety and tension surrounding the Knicks evaporated when it quickly became apparent the Pistons were playing as lifelessly as attendees at a corpse convention.

Really? Corpse convention? And “lifelessly” is a clunky word. Please don’t use it. Personally, I would’ve gone with “The Pistons were as limp as James Bond’s dick at a NAAFA convention.” But that’s only one more reason why I could never be a sportswriter.

You, ladies and gentlemen, are looking at a way too generous birthday gift from Jason Cobra. Official Chauncey Billups Adidas b-ball kicks. Now yours truly has a long standing love affair with Chuck Taylors, but these suckers are so glowing nerdy-white and beautiful, I feel compelled to actual get into shape and wear them on the court because I will magically be able to drop science on all the little kids in my neighborhood. Thank, JC!

Regular season kicks off the day after Halloween.

Astounding Free Darko Post comparing Stephon Marbury of the Knicks to Tracy Morgan for their insane dedication to not giving an eff.

BTW I’m staring down to fanasty football drafts in the next few days and looking for some tips since I don’t watch the preseason at all. Email me at scott@barber-college.org.

PS: MAGIC.

…

“Can a series end if it never begins? Do the game tapes magically disappear? Are tickets refundable? And of utmost importance: If a series never existed, am I still getting paid to cover it?”

Respect to googly-eyed M-Daily alum Mike Rosenberg for the lead of last night’s Bulls-Pistons recap. I’m disappointed this didn’t turn into showdown everyone was expecting and just feel a bit sorry for the Baby Bulls of my adopted city. Make no mistake, I’m always behind my hometown team, but I felt actually sorry that the Bulls could do anything with a 19 point lead last night except let it slip away. The Bad Boys don’t need another punching bag series where they barely have to shoot straight to pull things out.

Assuming they can crawl their way past Lebron that shit will get them now where when they head West.

I am however, winning a bet that’s gonna bring me some a serious media windfall. Details if I do actually win. No chickens yet counted out of respect for my current overloaded-hotdog hood.

UPDATE: From Bill Laimbeer’s wikipedia article: “Initially raised in the Chicago suburb of Clarendon Hills, Illinois, Laimbeer attended Palos Verdes High School in Southern California and then the University of Notre Dame; in 1974 he played one of the Sleestak during the first season of the TV series Land of the Lost.”

Whhhhaaaaaa??

Allow me to continue my long stream of snap declarations of greatness, but today’s FreeDarko post was jaw dropping. It would only lessen it to parse it out and I realize that we blog about blogging more than anything else (mostly how we’re going to or not going to do it). But still, Hoard if you need a reason to stay in the game, this is it.

Is Fake Chauncey more important to basketball than the real thing??

&Rock music to Sting: “Ditto.”
And now a study in contrasts:

Let’s say you work at Burger King and somebody comes in and calls you names and throws their drink at your head. Sorry, but you can’t leap over the counter and punch them in the face. Thems the rules. Now on the other hand if somebody jumps over the counter and touches you, by say going in for a kiss, you can totally punch that guy. Why? He broke the rules and came into your space and touched you first. That the difference between assault and self-defense.

Watch for Karate Baseball.