Great Night... Greater Expectations...

We may be on the cusp of a dynasty (not pictured).

My head is still spinning after the CRAZY night I just experienced.

I would argue it was the most important night in Miami Heat history, and not a bad one for my career.

Miami is now loved and loathed.

The greatest basketball player in the world now calls Miami home.

The Heat now has the greatest trifecta in the NBA.

Boston found three players to commit who were all about winning. They won a title and were within two minutes of another.

The Heat did the same thing, except the players are 10 years younger and JUST heading into their prime.

MIami will put the NASTY, in dynasty.
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Allow me to put you in my sneakers for a second.

I woke up this morning at 7 am.

I was laying bed and simply couldn't fall asleep.

My girlfriend was on her way to work and asked: Why are you up?

I said one word: LeBron.

I had become truly obsessed.

So, I go to work thinking, okay, I'm a sports producer today.

LeBron's making his decision today, it's going to be a MADHOUSE.

That's fine.
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After the 6 pm news, our two main anchors come up to me, why don't you go on the air to talk during our LeBron special?

Hmm, I thought. That would be fun.

I mean, I'm standing here in a pair of blue jeans.

I didn't do the most thorough job shaving today.

But okay, let's rock n' roll.

The idea was shot down.
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So I go back to my producing.

Now, my news director calls me into his office. If you've ever worked in television, that's a scary thing.

He says, why don't you go on the air and talk about twitter, blogs and facebook?

Sure, I said.

I have been beyond obsessed with social media since I joined facebook (though I was admittedly a slow adapater to twitter).

Then he correctly pointed out that my shirt wasn't exactly TV ready.

No problem.

The main anchor let me borrow a shirt and jacket (Thank you again Calvin, Laurie and Will!).
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So there I am.

It's 9 o'clock.

I'm looking over my boss' shoulder at LeBron's press conference.

I have an IFB in my good ear (i do actually have a good ear).

My stomach is churning.

I'm infinitely more nervous about LeBron than being on TV.

TV is talking.

Either I'll say something intelligent and interesting, or I'll say something stupid.

There were really only two ways it could go.
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They throw to me.

I start talking.

It went well.

Everyone seem pleased.

But that's not even the headline on the night.
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When LeBron says the word "SOUTH BEACH" I thought: Does no one respect downtown Miami?

The Heat play in downtown.

You have to take the 195 or 395 to get to the beach.

It's like when TV stations bump in with beach shots from Sun Life Stadium.

It's in Miami Gardens.

When I got done with my idiotic mental rant, I said, Wait a second.

We got him!

We got him!

I started dancing like a contestant on the "Price Is Right" picked for the showcase showdown.

It's a shame I'm such a goofy dancer, "So You Think You Can Dance" really has given me a desire to express myself, but I digress.
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The center of the basketball universe is now South Florida.

And I work here, I live here, I was born here.

We showed people with pots and pans celebrating in Southwest Miami-Dade like the day we won the title.

It felt like that.

Only better.

I wanted pots and pans (speaking of Pot, I'm really glad the Heat traded Michael Beasley. He was more high than highlights, enjoy Minny Beas).
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I got to my phone after the show.

I had TONS of texts, missed calls, and facebook notifications (as anyone who knows me, I LOVE me some facebook notifications).

They were from around the country: LA, Denver, New York, Boston, and Chicago.

That's what I loved about 2006.

Everyone came together to celebrate the Heat.

It's going to happen again.

My guess is 2 or 3 times.
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I can go into the nuts and bolts of basketball.

How will they round out the roster, can they really win, and all of that.

But that's another blog for another day.

I'm just going to enjoy that my town matters, that I was in the right place at the right time, and my favorite moment of the day, a text from my brother that read "I was wrong."

Yes you were.

Never bet against Pat Riley.

Feeling Greedy...

I (not pictured) am feeling greedy tonight.

I have been worried about Dwyane Wade opting out of his Miami Heat contract for MONTHS.

I looked at the Heat roster and I thought, could you blame him if he left?

This week, I've been a nervous wreck about Wade's possible departure and flirtation with Chicago.

Today, my wish came true, and then some.

Not only did Wade sign, but he's bringing 5-time All-Star Chris Bosh with him.

And yet I'm not satisfied.
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I've made the case multiple times on this blog as to WHY Miami is the most logical destination for a Wade and LeBron pairing.

Cap space.

The Bird Rule.

All of that.

But, I'm less than 24 hours from it actually happening.

It's been obsessing me.

I'm up all night twittering.

I've been glued to ESPN (how they've embarrassed journalism with this story is a blog for another person to write. Needless to say, I've been underwhelmed with their ethics and coverage).

I daydream about what Pat Riley said to LeBron during their 3-hour meeting.
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I've also been really angry at these guys.

As my last post indicated, I'm not happy with how they've conducted themselves.

Look at Kevin Durrant.

The guy signed a 5-year extension and no one knew he did it.

LOVE that guy.

Sure, LeBron, Wade, and Bosh are brash and borderline obnoxious.

Sure it's a bad economy and they're debating 100 million dollar deals.

But, I've always been blessed (or cursed) with the ability to differentiate between OFF-THE-COURT and ON-THE-COURT.

These guys may be arrogant.

They may be immature.

But they can ball. (just so no one calls me out on what I said about Bosh in the previous blog. I think he's a good player. I don't think he's "elite." He's certainly not in the Wade-LeBron class. Still, glad he's on Miami's roster. As a third piece, he'd be unreal).
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Thursday's announcement is about what LeBron values.

I personally believe Wade, Bosh, and Riley filling out the jigsaw puzzle gives him the best chance to win.

Cleveland is home.

New York is the biggest market in the World.

New Jersey has his friend Jay-Z and the chance to rule Brooklyn.

Chicago added Boozer. They have a nice roster which could be sick. (Although Rose isn't Wade, not yet).

LeBron's success has earned him the right to make this decision.
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Tonight, is the last night I'll fall asleep dreaming about free agency.

Tomorrow, I'll be returned to reality.

The reason I want LeBron in Miami is because he would make my hometown MATTER so much more.

We'd max out national tv games, every game (home and away) would be an event, we'd be nationally loved and loathed.

It would just be fascinating.

And I'd have a front-row seat.

Either way, I appreciate the opportunity to see Dwyane play for the next 5 or 6 years.
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What's crazy is everything that's been said, everything that's been written, everything that's been tweeted, everything that's been reported...

It all becomes irrelevant tomorrow.

LeBron will make his choice and so will go the NBA for the next few years.

The fates of fans, towns, economies, and an entire sport are in LeBron's hands.

That's an awesome responsibility.

I just can't believe I'm letting the King hold my emotions ransom.

I want to be free.

But I also want to cover a dynasty.

To be continued...

Little Three...

I've been obsessed with NBA free agents (not pictured).

I literally spend HOURS and HOURS scanning twitter looking to find out the latest hint of what the big three: Chris Bosh, LeBron James, and Dwyane Wade are going to do.

Frankly, before the chips fall, I wanted to say something about all three.

They've been total ***holes the last week.
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Let me start with Dwyane Wade.

I'm closest to his situation and may I say he's handled it so badly I don't know where to begin.

This town has LITERALLY been named after Dwyane.

I currently reside in Miami-Wade County.

And yet, up until this morning, Wade didn't have the decency to show up here.

If they named a hogie after me in Norway, I'd be on the next flight.

The town is throwing themselves at him, and he can't be bothered.
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Then, Monday morning (on a holiday), the Heat tweets that Wade will be arriving in town.

They give the area to wait.

50 fans take time out of their day to show Wade love.

Turns out, it's the wrong terminal.

Flash just drives away.

In the worst economy since the depression, people get up at 7 am on a holiday to BEG a guy to take 125 MILLION dollars; and he can't be troubled to stop.

His PR people spun it however they wanted.

Bottom line is this: If he cared, he would've stopped.
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And then, there's the latest.

Wade was supposed to appear at a press conference to promote Zo's Summer Groove, a big charity event in town.

He cancelled.

Way to go Wade, sell out fans, and now charity... want to kick some puppies next?
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Chris Bosh is having fun with free agency.

He's tweeting.

He's talking.

He's washing himself in the adoration.

Everyone needs to keep something in mind.

He averages 20 points, and 10 rebounds, yes.

But he's also a big man in the east.

Not exactly stiff competition.

Also, he's the only player on the Raptors.

And most disconcertingly, he's a jump-shooter.

He's basically a younger Jermaine O'Neal.

He's a good player, just not as good as he thinks he is.

Whatever team has him, will be regretting his contract years 4 or 5 (or god forbid 6).
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And there's LeBron.

I won't leave Akron.

Come to me.

2 teams a day.

2 hours.

I'll show up in my pajamas.

LeBron has an awfully big ego for a guy who hasn't won a title.

I would like to be a witness to his maturation process.

Instead, I'm seeing all three of these guys bathe in ego and holding the NBA hostage in the process.
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There's so much that annoys me about the conduct of these free agents.

They all act like they're making SUCH a tough decision.

Really?

I promise you I wouldn't lose a night's sleep over who wanted to pay me 100M.

Don't make it look so agonizing guys.

It's really distasteful.

Where these guys end up will be impactful on wins and losses next year.

But to be honest, all of these free agents have lost some respect.

Pat's Pitch...

Friday is one of the most important days in the long, storied, Hall-of-Fame career of Pat Riley (not pictured).

He will be in Ohio pitching to LeBron James.

For all the praise that's been heaped Riley's way as master-motivator and great public speaker, this will be the most important sell-job of his life.

While he'll be joined by Micky Arison, Zo, and a host of Heat brass.

Make no mistake.

This is Pat and LeBron, one-on-one.
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The cards are stacked in Riley's favor for many reasons.

The biggest is money.

The Heat have more cap-room than ANY TEAM around.

Now, because of the Larry Bird Rule (which basically encourages players to stay with their own teams), Cleveland can pay LeBron more.

BUT...

Miami can afford Wade, LeBron, and either Bosh, Booozer, A'Mare.

Whichever of the three bigs Miami comes up with, that team is winning the Eastern Conference.

Oh heck, I won't limit my expectations... That team is winning multiple titles.

That team is challenging the Bulls' wins record and might even go after the '72 Dolphins (no pressure)

Riley can sell winning on a level that Cleveland, New York, New Jersey, and the Clippers cannot.
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There's a loyalty factor.

LeBron is from Ohio.

He's hosting his meetings in Akron.

He's trying to show he's all business.

He and Warren Buffet even claim to be tight (I don't foresee the two partying together much, but what do I know?).

So Riley needs to break through that.
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The easiest way to do it is the following:

Keep it in basketball terms.

Show LeBron that his BEST chance of winning big is here in Miami.

Because honestly, I think it is.

LeBron, Wade, and one of those bigs is a better nucleus than Rose, LeBron, and Joakim Noah.

It's certainly better than anything New York or New Jersey can bring to the table.
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What makes this week so fascinating is it's a chance for LeBron James to define himself as a human being.

I'm not overstating that.

What does he value?

Money?

Loyalty?

The spotlight?

Winning?

Everyone is talking about this Batman and Robin analogy.

And that's fine.

Is LeBron defined by his ego?

The true greats, like to be surrounded by greatness.

They aren't threatened by it.
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Truth is, I don't know what's in LeBron James' heart.

I just know that Riley better put in the extra hair product on Friday and be his showtime self.

The future of the Heat franchise depends on it.

One final tip, don't tell LeBron you'll surround with great talent such as Delonte West, it's still too soon.

Tagging, You're It

My brother (not pictured) made a movie recommendation that I (also not pictured) had to take him up on.

He told me I should see a film called "Exit Through The Gift Shop."

To be perfectly honest, as he explained it to me on facebook chat, I sort of tuned out (maybe it's because that chat is so sporatic).

Oh here comes professor Jon with another of his movies that no one has heard of, I bet it's subtitled. Throw in the word "noir" and he'd be pitching a pants-tent.

Dude was right though (as usual).

This movie is outstanding and you should go see it yesterday.
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I don't want to get TOO into the plot of the movie.

It's a documentary that explores street art and the artists.

The reason I don't want to tell you the story is because the movie does such a better job than I ever could.

It unfolds in a clear and fascinating way.

So rather than talk about plot, I'd rather discuss some of the ideological questions that the film raises.
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The movie explores the legitimatization of graffiti artists.

Basically, these artists go from petty criminals, to high-demand artists selling their work for hundreds of thousands of dollars at auction houses.

After the movie, I went across Sunset Place to Barnes Ignoble where they were selling a big book with the work of Banksy, one of the artists profiled in the film.

How does that impact your work?

It becomes hard to "keep it real" when all of a sudden everything you do, is adored by the people you abhor.

Mock me, I'll give you 100K for it.

It inevitably changes you.

I think that's why the word "gift shop" worked its way into the title.

It's not just about art, it's about commerce and the nature of selling out.

The "selling" isn't in there by accident.
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There's also a struggle once this art is legitimatized that copy-cats come in and steal credibility.

So here are these artists, they've risked arrest, their lives (you'd be amazed by the lengths they have to go to to put their art on cities)... and they've achieved what they claim they don't want: legitimacy.

And now, others come in and poach their style having paid none of the dues.

The originals want to rip these copy-cats.

The problem is: The whole point to their art is, there are no rules.

So what now?

Street graffiti isn't the only medium where this takes place: music, books, just about any art form.

It's like listening to hip-hop on Y100, is it real hip-hop anymore? Do the artists care if they're on their yacht?
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The nature of art vs. vandalism is an inherent subtext to any discussion of this modern art form.

It's beautiful when you look at it on the movie screen.

Not so much fun when someone tags your storefront.

The lines between artist, criminal, and fraud are thin, and that's sort of the point of the movie.

Is the protagonist a genius, a fake, a madman, a tagger, a filmmaker, or as he professes to be Mr. Brainwash?

I'm not sure.

But I sure enjoyed the heck out of the movie.

Four-Fingered Salute...

It was an emotional weekend for Joe Torre (not pictured) and for Yankees fans.

The Yankees returned to LA to take on the Dodgers.

Most importantly, it was the first time that Joe Torre and Don Mattingly ever OPPOSED the Yankees.

It was strange as a fan.

It was surreal.

And more importantly, as a 3-game series, it was ****ing awesome!
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There are really two stories that were at work.

There was the baseball story.

This was a potential World Series preview. This is a rivalry that goes back to Jackie Robinson sliding under Yogi Berra in the World Series. This is the two biggest media markets, two of the biggest payrolls.

All of that.

And, more compelling in my view, there was the human story.
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I read Joe Torre's book "The Yankee Years" and I watched him build an empire in New York.

The day he was signed the New York papers ran a headline "Clueless Joe." He went from that, to four world championships.

Along the way, Torre always demonstrated class, dignity, and a quality that made people hate the Yankees less.

That's hard to do.

Even Yankee haters respect Jeter, Rivera, and Posada (Pettitte would be on this list but he cheated).

Torre was also on that list.
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That said, to write a tell-all book about your players, WHILE YOU ARE STILL MANAGING, is pretty bush league.

Seriously.

I read the book with great interest.

But did he really need to rip AROD like that?

For a guy who excudes class, I thought it was a cheap money-grab.

But more importantly, I thought it reflected how truly HURT he was by the end of his Yankee years.

Not only did Torre not go out on his own terms, but he was essentially made to grovel for his job.

In the book, he stooped to management's level.
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Which brings me back to this weekend.

Yes, there were emotional reunions.

Jeter hugged Torre.

Mariano hugged Torre.

Billy Crystal showed up wearing a Switzerland Hat (he's a Yankees fan but close friends with Torre).

Jack wore a Yankees hat (is there a bigger front-runner on planet earth--- really? Yankees and Lakers? Does he go to Vegas to cheer on the dealers?)

And the games were great.

Friday night, 2-1 win for New York. CC Sabathia and Mariano combined to shut down the Dodgers. AROD hit a beautiful F-U home run.

Saturday, the Dodgers strike back. They trounce the Yankees as Reggie Jackson and Tommy Lasorda shoot the stuff in the Fox broadcast booth (note to Tim McCarver: less is more, it's not about you when two legends are riffing).

Sunday: The Yankees trail 6-2 in the 9th. They had a 9th inning rally off Dodgers closer Jonathan Broxton and eventually won in the 10th on a 2-run homer by Robinson Cano (who is baseball's MVP so far--- go look at his stats--- SICK).
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During that rally, Torre had to look over wistfully and think, DAMN!

The difference in this game is simple.

I rolled out Broxton in the 9th, Joe Girardi rolled out Rivera.

With Mo, I'm a genius 4-time champ.

With Broxton, I'm Philly's bitch in the Playoffs.

Is Torre a better or worse manager in LA than he was in NY?

Nope, he just had better players in NY.
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I say all of that to get to my favorite moment, and it involves my favorite athlete.

The Yankees had rallied to tie the game at 6-6.

There was a runner on 2nd and two outs.

Torre had looked cool, calm, and collected as his team was falling apart.

That was until Derek Jeter walked towards the plate.

ESPN cut to a panicked Torre throwing up 4 fingers.

I said to my girlfriend (who has quickly learned that Yankees game are a central part of my existance): He's walking Jeter.

He's scared.

Joe Torre has dealt with a lot in baseball and in life.

He was fired prematurely (and reacted badly only after the fact).

He was a rock while his brother battled cancer.

He was abused as a child (and has done amazing work to prevent that since).

He's a former league MVP and 4-time WS champion as a manager.

But that guy wanted NO PART of Derek Jeter in the 9th.

Too many times he'd seen DJ get the needed base hit to settle games.

When Jeter was coming up, I could already visualize the base hit to right, the run scoring and Jeter giving his little fist pump.

So could Torre.

He had seen this movie before.

30 Years from now when someone starts talking trash about Jeter, and telling me how overrated he is, and how he's not truly a Yankees legend... I'll know.

The man who was afraid of nothing, FEARED Jeter in the 9th.

That four-fingered salute and look of panick tells me more than Elias Sports Bureau's stats ever will.

US Against The World

God Bless Landon Donovan (not pictured).

Never in my life did I think on ONE tv screen I'd have an England-Slovenia game where I was PRAYING for a Slovenia goal, and on the other, I'd watch the US go toe-to-toe with Algeria.

But that was the situation on Wednesday.

The US was in one of those "win or get help" situations, and help wasn't coming.

The 90th minute arrived and I was standing next to Joe Zigacki, the voice of the Miami Hurricanes.

Joe said to me, Dukie, that may be a LOONNNNG flight home.

Then its flashed on ESPN: 4 minutes of extra time.
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During the minute before Donovan's goal, I was working myself into a frenzy of rage.

Earlier in the game, Clint Dempsey scored a goal for the US, but it once again, was wiped off the board.

A BS off-sides call was the culprit this time.

Sure, the US blew chances, but how deflating must that have been for Bob Bradley's bunch?

I said to myself, F this sport.

Really.

For whatever reason, be it political, economic, jealousy, that we're new to the sport...

American goals don't count.

Fool me once shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me.

For whatever reason, we couldn't get a break and it makes the rest of the world delighted that we can't.

I thought to myself, how can I emotionally invest in sport, where my team legitimately doesn't have a chance to win? To make it even more personal, that's my country.

F that.

If the US doesn't score here, I'm done with it...
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I didn't even get the word "it" into my brain, before a frenzy of joy and elation.

Landon Donovan did what elite players are supposed to do in crucial situations, he found a way to win.

As the Americans formed a dogpile on the side of the pitch, I felt myself well up with unbridled jingoism.

You know what rest of the world??? You don't want the US to do well at soccer? Tough **it.

We're coming to beat you at your own game.

American imperialism on the pitch and in your face.
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So there you have it soccer, you almost lost me and then won me over BIG TIME in the span of about 90 minutes.

Honestly, I don't really care about the typical soccer questions... Will soccer ever catch on in the US and blah blah blah...

What I do care about is *THIS* US team.

They overcame horrible officials, slow starts, uneven defense, the vuvuzelas, and the hatred of the world, and won their group for the first time since 1930.

Bring on Ghana Saturday.

I believe.