“What is she (Emma Stone)?”
Everyone is going to be tuning in tonight at 8:30 p.m. EST on ESPN to watch the Boston Celtics try and eliminate the Miami Heat in a super-charged game 6 from the parquet (is it still parquet?) floor in Boston’s asdfjsdfsdjaf Garden. No less an authority on overwritten sports tropes than Detroit Free Press columnist (and author), Mitch Albom, has weighed in on the Heat hate. This after dentalophile Rick Reilly wrote his condescending column (which is redundant when Reilly’s name is attached) defending LeBron James (pro-tip: you’re doing something wrong if Rick Reilly has to come to your defense). It wasn’t just those two titans of annoyingly naval-gazy online writing that have weighed in. Most of my favorite writers have already started the death dance on the Heat.
Tom Ziller asked it most directly: Is this the death of the Heat? Sports Illustrated’s Michael Rosenberg writes that “everything” is at stake for the Heat tonight. Henry Abbott at True Hoop tackles the eschatological Heat rhetoric more realistically. Howard Beck of the New York Times says a Heat loss tonight would be a referendum on their model for success; namely, that superstars do not ensure titles (and yes, he mentions the Knicks). Dan Le Batard at the Miami Herald accurately says there’s no margin for error with this Heat team.
In all, everyone has a few words to spit about the Miami Heat as they head into an elimination game in rowdy Boston. I myself don’t think they’ll win, and I’ve tackled the Heat enmity with the twist that it’s possibly the public’s disdain that’s most at fault. Metaphysical hypotheses aside, there’s simply too much pressure—some of it self-imposed—for the Heat to do anything but crumble under the weight of their own expectations and egoistic displays of grandiosity. They asked for this, and so I don’t feel as bad about all the voices stacked against them. If they do somehow pull off the upset tonight, it will be that much more remarkable even as they face a game 7 let-down.
That’s sorta the point: there’s just no winning if you’re the Miami Heat, even if they win.
Heat art via
Idea for a Chris Perez commemorative t-shirt. Could also be on caps, mugs, whatever…
witnessed his father stab his mother to death at the age of 11, nearly quit playing football as a result of it. tonight, in the tournament held in his home country, he tore shit uppppp in front of a packed stadium with a freak of a goal against the russians. jakub blaszczykowski, respect!