Lost Reality Check: Once Upon a Time in Darlington...

This story starts out fairly innocently. Brandon, Tommy, Billy and I are all attending the "Southern 500." Bob Corbett is there as well and will be involved in the story shortly. Suffice to say, between the four of us we run out of beer fairly quickly. Bob Corbett man's up and tries to go get more for us, given that literally all of us are underage - man move. Unfortunately in the puritanical laws in South Carolina, you're disavowed from purchasing alcohol on Sundays. This is a setback. Temporarily...
Bob Corbett busts out some bourbon whiskey. "Can you guys handle some shots?" He asks. We all assured him we could - and we could, just the volume, in retrospect - happened to be slightly excessive.
We enter the racetrack and find our seats. I see the sun setting just as the cars come around the first turn. It was one of those beautiful sights you don't forget. Ironic, given the next series of events. Brandon, Tommy and I all went to the bathroom and that's the last thing I remember. Tommy told me that afterward he'd found me laughing hysterically pushing rental wheelchairs down a stairwell. Hilarious and slightly disturbing. I, on the other hand, don't remember reacquainting with my seat after our communal bathroom break. The sun is setting on this portion of the story, unfortunately (for me), both literally and figuratively.
I'm awoken by the sound of a car. I'm in a ditch on the side of a road, seriously. I'm utterly disoriented. What the fuck? I have nothing on my person but my wallet. Let me clarify that by nothing mean I am devoid of even shoes. I look around, barefooted and try and to figure out where I am. Nothing. The race track wasn't in sight, I am literally in the middle of fucking nowhere with nothing in sight.
"Okay Chase," I think. It's time to start trying. I hop a few barbed wire fences into businesses that clearly looked closed - and they all are. There were several houses, clearly abandoned, with massive boxes on the front porches. Bastions of potential homeless people.. my thought process was "oh they'll definitely know where a phone might be, and I have bare feet so they'll think I'm one of them."
I continue walking along the side of this abandoned road, until I get to the highway exit.
"Yes," I think. I'm on I-77, exit 23. the place where I drunkenly always convince myself I am, but have never been. I have called friends' mothers and told them I was there before, only to have them search and wait for me to no avail. Idiotic
However, it seemed I had some good luck on my side. At this odd truckstop looking place there was this guy, kind enough to offer me a ride.
"Where do you want to go?" he inquired. "Anywhere with a phone," I state.
So we're traveling down this road that's totally barren, no street lights, nothing. Then "it" happens. This guy randomly grabs my crotch area. I immediately grab his hand and stop him, somewhat twisting his arm (but he is driving, I'm somewhat restricted here).
"What are you doing, this isn't going to work... I'm not that guy."
He literally ignores me and tries it again. This time I grab him forcefully to magnify the point that I am faster/stronger and whatever weird effort he's trying, won't work. He's honestly disturbed at this point by my resistance.
It's at this point he starts propositioning me. He claimed he would seriously "suck me off for a ride back to Charlotte." He was serious. And I for half a second considered it, but no.
We finally arrived at Walmart. I was so glad to get out of this assholes car I behaved somewhat asshole-like myself at the aforementioned mega-store.
I approached the "customer service" desk and pleaded with them to use their phone. This was their response to a shoeless, desperate guy.
"If you buy a phonecard you can use the phones over there."
The phones "over there" were these shitty pay phones. However when you have no options, one looks better than none. I called Billy Corbett with the phone card I'd bought and fortunately he and Bob Corbett were on the way.
Luckily being barefooted in Walmart in South Carolina doesn't acquire much attention. So took this time to open and consume a bag of Chex Bold Party Mix, in the back of the store.
Finally, my ride home had arrived. Everyone was laughing about my journey except Bob Corbett, who was utterly convinced I was raped. But in the end the ride home was tranquil except for the slight interruption which was my story and perhaps a...
...Reality Check.

McGovern Player of the Finals - Games 5 / 6

McGovern Player of the Finals - Game 5 / 6

McGovern of the Finals - Game 5:

Well, this post detailing the Finals should be slightly different than usual. Partially because it's been written later than usual. Also, partially because I'm lazy and my right-shoulder and mouse-hand is in discomfort.
I am really not certain how the injury occurred but I can assure you trying to turn the now power-steering wheel of my car was painful and discomforting. Upon medical diagnosis today I apparently have tendinitis in my right-rotator cuff and have strained it. Not ideal for getting into beach shape - but typical.

Golden State:

Barbosa:-1+1

Barns:+2+2

Bogut:

Curry:-1-1+2+1-1-1+1+1+1+2+1+1 (6)

Ezeli: +1+1+2+1 (5)

Green: +1+1+1+1 (4)

Iguodala +1+1+1+3-2+2+2+2-1 (9)

Livingston +1

K. Thompson: +1-2+3 (2)

Cleveland:

Dellavedova: +2 +2 (4)

James: +2+1+1-2+1+1+1+1+2 (8)

Jones +1 +1+2 (4)

Shumpert +1+1+1 (3)

Smith-1-1-1+1+1 (-1)

T. Thompson +2+1+1+1+1 (6)

Game 5 was played like shit. I'll admit LeBron played well but his post game interview brought him down. He played so well, even for his ability, he nearly won which is significant in my book.

Dellavedova was pretty much ordinary in this contest, which is why he was awarded ordinarily. 

Curry did his typical playoff thing where he is invisible in the first half and comes on late.

Ezeli was actually surprisingly effective. However, once again the veteran Iguodala stepped up and played near his former Sixers level - all while guarding LeBron. Slick.

McGovern FAGGOT of the Finals - Game 5:

Refs: -2

R. Curry: 

M. Miller: -10, -1, -10 (-21)

Idiot Female Security Officer:

ABC Sound Screw:

A. Davis: -3

FAGGOT NOTES:

I hate Mike Miller. He's the biggest piece of white trash - who is actually rich - in the NBA. I don't give a fuck about his supposed "effort" plays. He is an injury prone, unathletic (which isn't a word according to this) white guy. If he doesn't put forth effort... he wouldn't even be in the NBA. Anthony Davis is back on the list after tangling with DK once again in another Pixels commercial. What a pity and what a fool...

McGovern of the Finals - Game 6:

Golden State:

Barbosa +1+ 2 (3)

Barnes +1+2+1-1 (3)

Bogut

Curry -1+1+1+3+1+1+1+1+1 (9)

Jones +1 -1

Green: +1+1+1+1-1+1+2+1-2 (5)

Iguodala +1+1+1+1+2+1+1

Livingston: +1+1

T. Thompson: -1 -1 +2 (0)

Cleveland:

Dellavedova: -1

James: +1+2-2+2-1+1+1-1 (4)

Mozgov +1+1+3+1+1+1+2 (10)

Shumpert -1 +1

Smith +2 +1 +1

T. Thompson +1+2+1+3+1 (8)

Game Notes:

It saddens me to have to resort to tiebreaker tactics. However, since - as I shall later explain - Iguodala disqualified himself after game 6, this is unfortunately what I was forced to do (as he would've won the McGovern Player of the Finals). It's an unfortunate exercise that has to occasionally be performed to maintain the sanctity of MPOTF. The last time this happened it was to Jason Terry, who tangentially went off thanking god in excess after a Finals win. What the fuck is wrong with these idiots? Even if there was a god, it's pretty evident it pays very little attention to Earth. If it doesn't interfere with flood, famine, plagues, or according to the idiotic book he probably believes, causes them... WHY WOULD AN OMNIPOTENT BEING HELP YOU SPECIFICALLY WIN A BASKETBALL GAME? I just don't understand why minorities in this country are so god damn religious when god clearly isn't doing them any favors - despite being omnipotent and omniscient. So god supposedly knows every terrible thing that will happen to you ever and it's content letting it all go down? Fucking idiots.

McGovern FAGGOT of the Finals: - Game 6
Refs -2-1

R. Curry -2

M. Miller

ABC Sound Crew +1

A. Davis

Cav's Fans -1 -1 -1

Iguodala - 600,000

FAGGOT Notes:

Why Andre? Why? Do you actually think god stuffed you on the bench all year to start you now? No one can possibly be that stupid. Oh wait, you're a pro-athlete. For some reason it's socially acceptable for you and attractive women to have actually mailed in your minds years ago. This guy was seriously seconds from winning both the Finals MVP and the more important MPOTF award, when he sabotaged himself with this cult talk. Dumb-ass-hole. If you'd like to follow J. Terry's footsteps let me assist you: -600,000 ways. Fucking faggot. New Finals record. Apologies Jason Terry.
Abc Sound Crew: They played 'Shut up and Dance," which I enjoyed. 

Series Notes:

This is a battle of attrition...so it matters not that Iguodala has a new record for FAGGOT points in a Final's game. It matters who had the most FAGGOT (and non FAGGOT) games + points in total...
Here's the breakdown - sans the missing game 2. Here are the new winners of every game - post Iggy ousting.


Winner / FAGGOT:
Game 1: Irving, Iguodala 

Game 2: ?

Game 3: Dellavedova, M. Miller

Game 4: Dellavedova, M. Miller

Game 5: James, M. Miller

Game 6: Tie: Curry, Mozgov, Iguodala

History has been made in spades. For only the second time in history, the MPOTF has come from the losing team. Also for the second time in history a new record has been set regarding FAGGOT points in a single game. LeBron James, despite his awful name, has earned his first MPOTF single game award - "who woulda thought?"

Congratulations to the blunder from down under who tore Cleveland asunder: Mathew Dellavedova. Despite being admittedly biased toward foreign players I had nothing but apathy toward the Aussie originally. Yet, his grit, grind and team effort ended up encapsulating every part of what it takes to have a winning team. 

Mathew Dellavedova is the McGovern Player of the Finals 2015

Mike Miller is the McGovern FAGGOT of the Finals 2015 - I won't elaborate because he's a white trash faggot who doesn't deserve it.

Reality Check.

McGovern Player of the Finals - Game 3 / 4

     Well there's a second in terms of McGovern player of the Finals' history. I've lost the quad-ruled steno-pad I wrote Game 2 of the finals on. The first time being when one of my enraged Mexican friends tore my McGovern Player of the Finals archives up in a fit of jealousy. I only have two quad-ruled steno pads in the entire basement and despite being certain I used one of them during game 2, the page seems to be absent from both, so I'm not sure what happened. Regardless that's part of the reason I didn't make a post about game 2. I may have had too many Clubtails during the game as well. Although, while on the subject of this emergence of the premixed mixed-drink market, I'd like to state for the record and anyone else who might mistakenly purchase the utter trash that is Bud Lite Mixxtail's not to waste their money. As an ultra-taster with impeccable taste (especially in beverages), they're simply god awful. They clearly just copied Clubtails, ruined the ratios, then strangely raised the price yet lowered the alcohol content. Yet another reason for me to despise Anheuser-Busch as a company, aside from their inferior beer, previous sponsorship of Dale Jr. and god-awful change to their ad-campaign. The old Bud Lite ad-campaign had the guy who would slowly sing sentences normally about guys doing things in slow motion. Now there's this "up for anything" campaign. Despite the fact that every single "anything" situation on a commercial thus far, is one I would be annoyed to be involved in. I'd love to see the commercial outtakes when they find the wrong combination of person-situation. What'd be even more enjoyable would be to pick the situations people who claim they're "up for anything" end up in. Every time I see these annoying ads I always think about what it truly means to be up for everything. To me that'd entail things like being dropped in the South-Eastern area of Africa where mosquito's carry sleeping sickness near a pride of lions, being raped in prison or swimming 'till exhaustion and subsequently drowning. Anyhow, I'm not a fan of Bud Lite MixxTails.

Anyhow the remaining McGovern Player of the Finals games remains among the most intriguing, at least for me at this point, as I cannot find the sheet of quad-ruled steno-pad paper with which I judged game 2. So there's potentially a new wrinkle in how this McGovern Player of the Finals will be decided that for the first time in history, I'm technically separated from the decision, despite that I made it earlier and am utterly unaware of it or its location.
All of that being said I don't have an excuse for failing to post game 3's stats. Well really, I do. It's just not a socially acceptable excuse.

Game 3:

Cleveland:
Dellavedova: +1+2+1+1+1+1+1+3+1 (12)
James: +1+1+1+1+1+2+1+1 (9)
Jones: +3+1
Mozgov: +1+1+1+1+1 (5)
Shumpert: +1
Smith: +2+1+1
Thompson: +1+1+1+1+2 (6)

Golden State:
Barbosa:+1
Barnes:-1
Bogut:+1
Curry:+1-1-1-1+1-1+1+1-1-4+1 (-4)
Ezeli:+1+1+1+1 (4)
Green:+1
Iguodala:+1+1+1+1+1 (5)
Lee:+1+1+1 (3)
Livingston:+1
Thompson:-1-1+2+1 (1)

McGovern FAGGOT of the Game - Game 3
A. Davis
Refs -1
Riley Curry
M. Miller - 1 -2

I'll briefly say Game 3 was simultaneously frustrating and rewarding for me as a fan. I love effort play, I seem to have a soft-spot for foreign players and I dislike Curry. Even though I wanted to see Cleveland lose, seeing "Woah Delly!" shut down Curry for most of the game was enjoyable.

Game 4:

Cleveland:
Dellavedova: +2*-1+1+2+2+1 (7)
James: +4*-1-1+1-1-1 (1)
Jones: +2-1
Mozgov:+1+1+1+1+1+1+1 (7)
Shumpert: +1-1
Smith: +1-1-1-1-1 (-3)
Thompson: +1+1*+2+1

Golden State:
Barns: +1+1-1+1+1 (3)
Bogut: -2
Curry: -1-1-1-2+1+1+1 (2)
Green: +1+1+1+1-1+1+1 (5)
Iguoudala: +1+1*+1+1-1+1+1+1+1 (7)
Lee: +1+1+1-1 (2)
Livingston: +1+2+3+1 (7)
Thompson: +1+1-1+1 (2)

Game Notes:
Curry continues to disappoint yet Golden state won. Win-win. Bogut looked like trash once again - no effort. Sort of odd given his fellow country-man is being lauded by Cleveland specifically for effort and intensity. Iguodala has erupted this series. To me it's even more impressive because he's done so guarding LeBron James. If you look back at even just these playoffs alone, the player defending the other teams best player almost always has an offensive production decrease. Iguodala's has increased while guarding the best player in world - supposedly. I also enjoyed a former fantasy basketball player of mine in Mozgov succeed. Similarly I'm also enjoying J.R. Smith going ice cold just in time to remind viewers why he was traded, comes off the bench, and why he can't ever truly be trusted.
*Dellavedova's first +2 was because he was montaged with Men at Work - Land Down Under. Awesome Eighties strike again.
*James's first +4 was on that down-right sick, dare I say Sabonis-like pass in the first quarter, when he hopped up and did a no-look over the head back-pass to Mozgov. For the purpose of perspective, I believe this is the first time I rewarded a star player, aside from Ray Allen, anything above a 3. The Cavs may have lost the game but so far I consider that play the best of the entire Finals.
*Iguodala's point came when T. Thompson actually came up and stuffed him. He actually tried to approach T. Thompson afterward and say "nice play" but was subsequently totally ignored. Sportsmanship.
*And the opposite side of the formerly described play was T. Thompson, totally flouting the new mentality of "let's everybody get along," and straight up giving a non-verbal fuck-off to Iguodala. Asshole move, but totally hilarious and frankly totally appropriate. I actually prefer anger, discourse and bad sportsman. They're competitive - and fans pay to see competition. Teams that dislike one another usually produce both competitively and rating wise, the best series.
 - Game 4 has been the first ever 4-player tie in McGovern Player of the Finals history. To make things interesting, I normally don't force a tiebreaker (and by force a tiebreaker I mean decide myself) ,in the earlier Finals games. This is in hopes of someone breaking through with a 2nd or 3rd game, depending on how the series unfolds.

McGovern FAGGOT of the Finals:
A. Davis +1
Refs -1-1-1
Riley Curry
M. Miller
Idiot Female Security Officer - 3
ABC Sound Crew -3
Cavs Fans -10

FAGGOT NOTES:
These notes involve a few changes. Someone on my FAGGOT list is actually receiving a positive point, albeit just one. One unprecedented change is that from now on and the first time in history I'm going to actually remove (as opposed to always adding) someone from the much maligned FAGGOT list. That man is Anthony Davis. I never truly disliked him but as a matter of principle I won't sit idly bye while Donkey Kong's dominion is sullied. Additionally the PIXELS commercial's seem to be rotating based on old arcade games. Thus he is constantly against different opponents. Fortunately for him, he was up against and defeated the centipede - my most rivaled and despised fiend (not the game - the arthropod). Of course, it goes without saying if he disrespects DK again, he's back on the list immediately.
When LeBron fell down and smashed his head on that camera there were several security guards / local cops that tried to "contain" the situation by attempting to remove camera men from the immediate vicinity. This utterly infuriated me. Not because I wanted to see LeBron injured or bleeding but because anyone would be fucking stupid enough to think they could actually prevent filming from probably a dozen angles from the NBA alone all focused on the court and LeBron. This moronic bitch actually put her hand in a camera and said "you can't film here." Literally the second after this happened they switched to a stadium camera and not only caught but heard everything. The sheer stupidity involved in this incident just enraged me. How could you work security at a place like that and actually think you could do anything that makes a difference is hilarious. However trying to stop the happenings from being filmed is maybe one of the only more moronic things than thinking you're going to do anything if the fans decide to storm the court.
I subtracted 3 from the ABC sound crew because they continue to play a remixed version of Style by Taylor Swift that's god awful. I think this will be a recurring penalty as there's no reason to play that pseudo-melodic garbage.
Cavs fans - or should I say Lebron fans. He's brought his true talent back to Cleveland. And despite his athletic ability and basketball acumen, his greatest talent is marketing. He's followed MJ's market-myself strategy and modified it in our current era of millisecond updates on everything and expanded. Unfortunately this the is the way social justice warriors, rad-fems and the average bandwagon fan will interact. So you have groups of polarized people who are ironically enough extremely impressionable and constantly watching social media, typically for something wrong (or to know how/what to think for fuck's sake). I'd consider that to be nearly the archetype for the worst type of sports fan. They probably don't know much about LBJ aside from his reputation, ESPN and maybe his Twitter feed. They clearly know nothing about what happened to the Spurs when LeBron's team came back and won in 2013 with Ray Allen's sick shot or they wouldn't have left. Golden State's fans actually "took over" their arena audibly because so many people left and the crowd leftover were specter-taters. LeBron is wounded, bleeding, stays in the game - and as a fan you leave early - disrespectful. The worst part, though, is the fact that all the Cavs fans had shirts listing the number of people in the arena then like "20,153 All In." Then a third of them leave halfway through the 4th quarter. They left,and they're not even all in the stadium. They're first out (or off if we're talking bandwagons). I've never liked Lebron but I really feel sorry for him regarding his live fandom. I can't imagine how much revenue he earns from fans purely from advertising on social media but unless he's winning in a rout he can't seem to hold a home crowd.

McGovern Player of the Finals - Game 1

I had an abnormal start to the Finals this year. I was rushing around unprepared making my lists just as Game 1 tipped off. This was due to running one of Chuck McGovern's ridiculous errands. My problem(s) were not related to the task itself but the sheer idiocy of me leaving at 6:00 in Charlotte to go pick up a massive heavy item in Monroe, essentially South Carolina, in rush hour.
"Don't worry, it'll only be an hour and-a-half drive, you'll be back by 7." He says.
Predictably I arrive at the location at seven. I'm fuming. During a Nascar race, during a playoff game 7, during the first finals game... these are the FUCKING GOD DAMN annoying times he picks for errands. Ironically he's utterly indifferent about these times and time in general, which makes it hard to hate his sort of ignorant milieu. However, by speeding and persistence I managed to make it home 5 minutes before the game started.

My normal pre-finals-game routine involves several alcoholic drinks or non-descript psychoactive substances. All meant to neutralize my perspective of course, I couldn't live with myself if my bias ended up ruining the most important, accoladed, important and frankly - fun awards the NBA world has probably not scene - The McGovern Player of the Finals.
Luckily, I had prepared for such a disaster. In my fridge were 3 Clubtails (10% alcohol, 16oz.) which were Long Island Ice Tea flavored. To give an idea of how efficient these things are: one light beer, let's pick Beast Light, with the highest alcohol per calorie content among any light beer, about .04.

.04% * 12oz = .48oz alcohol - Milwaulkee's Best Light
.10%*16 = 1.6oz alcohol - Club Tails

When you break it down, including the increased ounces of the Club Tails, they're easily the more efficient choice. I might even put them up with 4-Loko's in terms of value/alc-oz in can form.
Regardless, I had some catching up to do - and I did so quickly. So I murdered all 3 cans by the half-point if the second quarter. If these athletes are going to power through to entertain us, I feel it's only my will, if you will, to will my way through the lateness, the tiredness, the rushed episodes and contribute the true essence of the McGovern Player of the Finals - judgement.

Judgement day is an apropos name to give to this Final's match up. I came in disliking both teams severely for different, yet similar reasons. I dislike them both because of their star player and hype. I've always noticed I was a contrarian but I've recently realize I tend to root against whatever team/player/entity is currently favored. Thus, during this season, I pretty much hated the Warriors as everyone from or around the Charlotte area won't SHUT THE FUCK UP about this faggot Curry.
Clearly no one has shut up about LeBron since he's been in the league, so he's always annoyed me too - since his rookie anointment. 

When the playoffs started, I was watching the first game of the first round and some guy came by and asked me "so who are you rooting for?"
"Hm,"I thought. "I'm not sure... I guess I'm more rooting against the Cavs and Warriors" I said. Predictable McGovern Bullshit.
Going into the series hating both teams is something I've had to deal with before, so I wasn't concerned. Near immediately in the first quarter Bogut blocked LBJ and by my reaction I realized I was rooting for the Warriors, just not Curry - well unless they need to win - how fucking uncomfortable.

Warriors:

Barbosa: +1 -1 +1

Barnes: +1 +1 +1 +1

Bogut: +1 +1 -1 +1 +1
Curry: -1 -1 +2 +1 +1 -1 +1 -3 -1 +1 -1 (-2)
Ezeli: -1 +1
Green: -1 -1 +1 +1 

Iguodala: +1+1+2+1+1+1+3+1(11)
Speights: +1+2+1 (4)

Thompson: +1+1+1+1+1+1+1 (6)

Cleveland:
Irving: +1+1+1+1+1+3+1

James: +1-1+1-1+1+1+1-1+1+1+1(5)

Mozgov: +1+1+1+1+1(5)

Shumpert: +1+1+1

Smith: +1+1+2+ (5)

Thompson: +1+1+1+1+1 (5)

LeBron started out well but had a bunch of bad turnovers, he was subsequently penalized. Through the 3rd quarter I honestly thought Mozgov was going to steal Game 1 with his alley-oop basket cuts but Tristan Thompson is just so vital to the Cavs he was actually in the lead. However, the second-half play of Klay Thompson but mostly Iguodala helped. Not only did Iguodala prove to be a catalyst for the Warriors offense, he stymied LeBron's O pretty well and was the surge for the Warriors comeback. Although now that people here are happy about it, I'm not sure how I feel about it.

McGovern FAGGOT of the Finals:
Anthony Davis: -1 -1 -1
Refs: -1 -1
Riley Curry: -3

M. Miller: -1

FAGGOT NOTES:

Anthony Davis: -1-1-1 (3) I saw this commercial for movie "Pixels," where Anthony Davis, throws a basketball at Donkey Kong and obliterates him. Now keep in mind this basketball is real and DK is virtual... but what the fuck? I'm not buying it. I'm not having it. I'm not watching it. I'm not accepting with it. I officially challenging Anthony Davis to beat me as DK in any game ever. Until this is fulfilled he'll lose 1 point every time this commercial is aired.
Refs:-1-1

Riley Curry: -3 If I have to hear how cute this annoying piece of shit was again, I'm going to lose it. Imagine if you had a mentally handicapped adult cousin with the intelligence of a 3 year old, then you took him to work on "take retards to work day." How disastrous, annoying and well, retarded would that day be? This is the exact format of take your child to work day. And now it's both genders! I don't give a fuck who or where you are, but unless you have kids, it's annoying to see kids outside of work - and even worse while working! If I had to deal with them inside, which I sometimes do, I'd lose it (which luckily I haven't, yet). Curry having his kid at that press conference wasn't cute. It was disgusting. Like having a demented, autistic stray cat with savant syndrome that could speak. She was doing her own thing, crawling all over ignoring him and everyone else, while he acted like he didn't care. Typical cat owner. Doesn't care.

Just Dance

The other day I was working the door in my father's dance studio. Making sure the right people got in and paid the correct amount, etc. I did that for roughly two hours 'til the influx started to slow down. This woman, the second most attractive woman on the dance floor, approached me and asked me to dance. Supposedly dance etiquette dictates you always say yes to anyone who asks you. I absolutely didn't want to dance, so luckily I had a great excuse: sorry I can't, I'm working.
Half an hour later my excuse wasn't so solid.
"Hey you can probably get up and dance now" - she says.
"Well, I'm working, I don't think my dad would approve," I said.
My dad was apparently right behind me.
"Oh, don't worry about it. I'll watch the door." He said.
What a fucking piece of shit! I thought. He knows I neither like dancing nor enjoy it. Passive aggressive fucker.
Fortunately this woman was very forgiving in her movements and allowed me not to look totally stupid, until...
I'd seen my dad and several other experienced dancers do this twirl type thing to the woman at the end of the dance. Upon not completely sucking I had the false confidence to attempt to dip, the woman I was dancing with. It didn't work - at all.
I blame half of the debacle on gravity, a quarter of it on me, and the rest on her.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed my dad, laughing. Faggot
Apparently my "dipping" skills consist simply of gravity and grasping someone before they hit the ground. My dip didn't work at all.
Fortunately, I pulled her up to see the entire dance floor in silence, probably curious about what I was going to do next. God damnit. The experience wasn't totally lost as there was still one person smiling in the room.
Predictably, it was my father, laughing it up - and he actually winked at me - asshole.
So I walked off the dance floor solo, approached my father and said "I'm still more coordinated than you."
He laughed and said when he was my age he wouldn't make excuses - which is ironically enough, an excuse.
"How would you feel if I ambushed you with something you're totally unfamiliar with?" I said.
"I guess we'll find out when you find something you're good at." He says. What a cocky jerk.
Luckily, I have the perfect solution already in mind.
Sometimes there is a DJ at these dance events, and other times my dad simply has a timed playlist to dictate the timing of certain dance styles. Tonight was one of the nights without a DJ... initially.
An impromptu DJ was about to make an appearance. When my father started dancing I decided to take over DJ responsibilities. DJ C4 was on the floor. In the midst of some weird song that they were waltzing to, I played Billy Joel - Uptown Girl.
Everyone on the dance floor stopped for a moment. My dad included, then they all seemingly adapted and figured out whatever dance was appropriate for the song. This annoys me.
"Alright" I think. "These idiots think they're slick, we'll see..." I mumble.
I turned on Eiffel 65 - Blue. Apparently 90% of the dancers had been exposed to this song to my dismay. Almost all of them changed dance steps instantaneously.
"What the fuck is wrong with these idiots?" I thought.
Just then my dad dipped the woman who I had danced with earlier, directly in front of me - and winked at me - what a creep.
Nonetheless, I realized I was the victim of yet another...
Reality Check

McGovern Player of the Finals - Game 5

There's a truth in numbers. People often use the words numbers and stats interchangeably. Despite either word being able to describe the other, there still is more of an innate truth in numbers. Each of the previous four Finals games has seen a different winner (Ginobili, Bosh, Green and Leonard). In game 5, which had the highest of stakes (because both the eventual McGovern Player of the Finals and FAGGOT of the Finals would end up being determined - the true two crown jewels of the NBA postseason) one of those four go on to break the tie-break of one-game apiece.


MIAMI:
Allen +1 -1
Anderson -1
Beasley +2
Bosh +3* +1 -3
Cole +2*
Haslem +1
James +1 +1 +2 +1 -2
Wade -1 -1 -1 -1 -2

SPURS:
Diaw: -1 +1 +2 +1 +1
Duncan +1 +1
Ginobili +2* +1 +1 +4 +2 +2
Leonard +1 +1 +2 +3 +1
Mills +1 +1 +2 +2 +2
Parker +1 -2 -1 -1 +1

McGovern Player of the Finals: Manu Ginobili (2 Games). The truth in numbers I was alluding to earlier is in all of Manu Ginobili's numbers. He lead the Finals both in actual + / - and in the more important + / - 's from me. I heard a sportscaster aptly summerize his play when he said "somehow he manages to take 3's that feel like they should be worth 8." This is exactly the reason he's the first player in NBA history to have performed the McG-feat: winning 3 total McGovern Player of the Finals awards. There have been three-peats before, but never a McG-feat. I'm glad to give Ginobili the distinction of the first one.

* Chris Bosh started out the game with +3 because he guaranteed a win before the game. I interpreted this as him referring to winning the McGovern Player of the Finals so I awarded him for his enthusiasm.
* Norris Cole received points simply because he entered the game before Mario Chalmers did, somewhat fulfilling my previous prediction.
* Ginobili got these points for the look he had in his eye after making his first three. I could tell a feeling of redemption had ensconced him - and he was embracing it.

McGovern FAGGOT of the Game:
Heat Fans 0
M. Jackson +1
Refs -2 -1 -1
J. Hill -2 -2 -4
Nos 0

McGovern FAGGOT of the Finals: Jonah Hill. I didn't bold that text as I feel this is something to be ashamed of and forever looked down upon. Jonah you are officially responsible for Miami fans not three-peating in the worst way possible. You've joined the dubious ranks of Mike Miller and Jason Terry with a badge of shame you can't lose. I wish I could say I'm sorry, but I'm not.

McGovern Player of the Finals - Game 4

Glory days. Glory days. This isn't a reference to the Spurs of old. It's more applicable to Greg Popovich, who I'd like to unofficially label: The Boss. Americana blue coller-esque work efforts along with beating the former NJ nets in another Finals made me think of him in the third quarter of tonight's Finals game. He shouted what I interpreted as "hard pick" to Boris Diaw. It made me think of the Gatorade "hard work" commercial which LeBron James got flak for after game 3.
LeBron is sponsored by Coke and thus Powerade. After his cramp in game 3, twidiots apparently texted Gatorade. I found the company's response pretty damn funny.
"He's not one of our clients and we've been on the sideline this entire time." Referring to James not drinking Gatorade. Pretty underhanded and excellent. Gatorade has since retracted the comment. I wish I understood their thought process. All publicity is good publicity. Anyway, during the entire fourth quarter of the game I kept Bruce Springsteen - Glory Days playing on youtube.

MIAMI:
Allen +1 +1 +1
Anderson +1
Bosh +1 -1 -1 -1
Chalmers -1 +2
Cole +1
Haslem + 1
James +1 -1 +2 +1 +1
Wade -1 -3 -1 +1

SPURS:
Bonner +1
Diaw +1 +1 -1 +1 +8 +1 +1 +2 +1 +1
Duncan +1 +2 +1 +2 +1
Ginobili -1 +1 +1 +2
Green +1 +1 +1 +2 -1 -1
Leonard +1 +2 +1 +1 +7 +2 +1 +1
Joseph +1
Mills +1 +2 +2
Parker -1 +1 +1 +1 +2 +1 +2
Splitter +1 +3 +2

Not a ton happened otherwise during the game. I had suspected more Gieco or Godzilla commercials would surface to give lizard deduction points to Jonah Hill to be more frequent. Fortunately something else arose to balance things out. A Hercules commercial, featuring none other than The Rock (The Great One, the Most Electrifying Man in Sports Entertainment, Perfomer of the Rock-bottom, Perfector of the People's Elbow) showcased him fighting what I suspect to be The Hydra, a reptilian monster with regenerating heads.
An uninformed individual about the subjects of Greek Mythology and herpetology might question why I'd bother negating points from Mr. Hill here. Afterall, the Hydra has several snake-looking heads and isn't exactly a lizard. A lizard usually can regrow body parts, where a snake cannot. Thus I felt the mythological Hydra was more similar to a lizard; and subsequently deducted points from Jonah everytime the commercial came on.

McGovern FAGGOT of the Game:

Heat fans -2 -2 -22 -1

M. Jackson -1 +4 +1

J. Hill -40 -6 -4 -14

Refs -1

FAGGOT notes:

HEAT fans: you're all pathetic. I personally plan on infiltrating the national weather service to name the next category 5+ hurricane something to insult you. I watched the lyrical youtube video to Will Smith's Miami after the game ended because I wondered how many lyrics I could warp to seem violent or offensive about Miami; it was all of them. I hope you all party all night when your beach is gone.

M. Jackson: not one "grown man" reference the entire game. Touche' sir.

J. Hill: ... How fucking dare you? You inconsiderate asshole, making money off of idiots who see your shit and being associated with the word "ultra" is one thing. Mingling with the problems of a half-god for attention? You've hit Rock Bottom - only in a moral sense, though. If I ever encounter you and The Rock together again in any encounter.. I will rock bottom you so hard it'll temporarily reverse the magnetization of the earth's core, allowing me to give you a People's Elbow on the way up and the way down. Fucking prick.

Refs: Haters gonna hate. Good job and no judgements here.

McGovern Player of the Finals - Game 3.

Apologies for this post's delay. I meant to type this out earlier but found myself without my trusty "quad-ruled steno book" that I use to scribble my points on earlier. Scribble would describe my hand-writing, which aside from my signature - passed down from four generations of Charles Patrick McGoverns - is probably difficult to read. Last night's game ended up being judged fairly lightly point wise (fairly implying uncharacteristic - not an antonym for heavy), for the players involved. Miami fans being essentially silenced throughout the first half helped emotions from clouding my first-half judgement.
Despite and probably as a result of the record-breaking offensive performance by San Antonio, the majority of points I awarded were because of defensive activity & acuity. I felt despite Leonard's excellent offense, his defense was sub-par and Danny Green played the most consistent throughout the game. Norris Cole also played decent defense despite that his offensive lackings were lopped in with Chalmers's. I won't be at all shocked to see him start for the HEAT and plan to award him thereupon.

MIAMI:
Allen +2 +3
Bosh -1 +1 -1
Chalmers -2 -4
Cole +3 -1
James +2 -2 +2 -1 +1
Wade +2 +2 +4

SPURS:
Bellinelli +2
Bonner +1 -2
Diaw +3 +1 +1
Duncan +1 +1 +1 +1 +4
Ginobili +2 +1 +2
Green +2 +2 +4 +4
Leonard +1 +1 +1 +2 +2
Mills +2 +2
Parker +3
Splitter +2

While trying not to listen to Bill Simmons's, Sage Steel's (total porn name) and Jalen Rose's first half analysis something caught my ear. Although it was storming outside I knew that wasn't it. It sounded like something hand landed on my back door. For some reason I really thought it might've been a bat. There's a wooden deck over my door which makes it a nice place for creatures to seek shelter. I've discovered most existing non-aquatic animal phyla there so far, aside from the ever elusive mammal. This was my chance. I sauntered up to my door, while switching on the outside light as this wouldn't matter much to what I suspected it was. Upon opening I saw no movement but the rain yet immediately heard the vibration once again. It was coming from directly above me, the ceiling tile on the inside. When I shut the door and jumped up to poke it and heard an odd rustling, I didn't know how to react. The movement pattern seemed to systematic to be a mouse or mammal, yet too light to be even a large spider. After repeating my jump-step-listen combo I decided I needed some tools. I slinked off and retrieved a step-ladder, a mini-flash light and a baseball bat.
It was time to start spying. After removing a couple of ceiling tiles and poking around with my bat I discovered it was a lizard Wikipedia described as being secretive and agile. Slick. Still waiting for half-time to end I decided to see what Wikipedia would say about "ultra-hearing." Hearing aid and Ultra boy were among the initial results. Both valid choices but I ended up clicking the one about Ultra-boy. To my unfortunate surprise I discovered it was a DC superhero (Jo Nah of the planet Rimbor). Jonah Hill will now suffer point deductions for every lizard reference throughout the duration of the finals.

McGovern FAGGOT of the Game:
Heat Fans -1 -600
M. Jackson -1 -2 -2 +1
J. Hill -60 -4
Refs -2 +2 +1

FAGGOT notes:

Heat Fans: Worst fans in the history of the league. I don't even particularly like James much but I really feel sorry for him regarding them. One would almost think after Game 6 in last years Finals they'd have learned their lesson. They walk out at half-time during a Finals game the year after their team made one of the best come backs of all time (as if walking out during the Finals isn't bad enough). They never cheer for their team unless it looks like they're guaranteed to win. I was actually about to award them their first points during the teams resurgence in quarter 3 when Miami looked poised for a comeback. Then Boris Diaw made an excellent play and they were instantly silenced while never making one more even half-way convincing chant the rest of the game. Fucking ingrates. They're the fan versions of Jonah Hill. Fat, worthless, whitewashed and entirely unconvincing.

M. Jackson: Most of his deductions were for continually saying "grown man" in some form or another.

J. Hill: I can't believe this fucker is associated in any way with the word ultra.

Refs: I have to admit they've been better this series than in the rounds leading up to the Finals.

Mistaken Guy-dentity: a schizo-textal affair.

This affair began during the second quarter of game two of the finals. During the commercial breaks of the game I was texting back-and-forth with a friend about the happening of the game thus-far. A germane tidbit about said individual entails his taking an abnormal psychology course. He seemed to feel one simple course, a course which has a historical track record of enabling students to over-analyze and more importantly over-apply the nature of the subject, to qualify him to diagnose me. This course was predictably, abnormal psychology. As a former psych-major: I'd been there, yet hadn't done that. Although I will admit the Wikipedia link to Schizotypal personality disorder did make me laugh a little:

Schizotypal personality disorder is a personality disorder characterized by a need for social isolation, anxiety in social situations, odd behavior and thinking, and often unconventional beliefs. People with this disorder feel extreme discomfort with maintaining close relationships with people, and therefore they often do not. People who have this disorder may display peculiar manners of talking and dressing and often have difficulty in forming relationships. In some cases, they may react oddly in conversations, not respond, or talk to themselves. They frequently misinterpret situations as being strange or having unusual meaning for them; paranormal and superstitious beliefs are not uncommon.

You can be assured, this segue was intended. Anyhow, we were texting about Finals play when I randomly received a text from an unknown individual who seemed to be very well-informed of the inner-workings of the MPOTF system who had a disdain for Manu Ginobili and Chris Bosh. It's relevant that this happened mere seconds after I had asked the aforementioned guy if his girlfriend had any thoughts about the game at hand. Timing.
At this point I suspected the random text to have originated from a third party in a new Floridian I'd recently encountered. After a few messages the exchange suddenly came to a halt.This person texts me a paragraph assuming I knew who they were? The gall! My mind started racing. Who could this be?
Why hadn't I asked them initially? Unfortunately, I knew the answer to this query. I don't save numbers in my phone because I memorize all of them - or pretend I do anyway. I used to do this accidentally before the cell phone craze began. Afterward, I concluded my system of numerical memorization was more efficient than having to save names. I could be anywhere and everywhere, without a phone and utilize all the necessary numbers I needed. Slick. 203-967-3757. Knowing all of my friend's old house numbers in Connecticut is unfortunately not as useful as I had wished. And that's my old house number so feel free to call it.The next day I texted the aforementioned friend whose girlfriend I suspected of texting me several times. He had successfully pranked me in the past - there was no way I was going to let it happen again.
"Clever girl..." I texted him. This is a quote from "Jurassic Park's Muldoon" upon realizing he had been stalked and cornered by several "Deinonychi."
"Who? What" He responded. Alright - he wants to play it this way, huh? I thought to myself. More than one of us can play dumb.
I texted the mystery number from last night under the clever guise of being uninformed of the situation at hand.
"Are you pleased with Bosh's performance?" "*Were you?"
"I blacked out and fell asleep right after texting you. But unless he died I was NOT pleased."
My conclusion was that the both of them had definately been in touch. This response was not only suspect but an easy cop out - and a slap in the face to my intelligence. They both clearly knew I was onto them. I immediately arose from my seated position and screamed "fuck."
Oddly enough though, negative feedback seems to encourage me. The next phase of my plan was immediately mentally laid out. I would use the new Floridian outsider to pretend to miss-text the mystery texter. Fucking slick.
Luckily for me, the Floridian was nice enough to agree to participate. The motion of my plan had began.
Later I was texted with a result.
I won't name names, but suffice to say the result was "Z."
I instantaneously reviewed all of the prior information about the entire situation. I was pretty damn wrong. The result wasn't my friend's girlfriend but guy a I knew, who I knew had a very strong bias against Manu Ginobili.
I had essentially made up this entire situation, been fueled by manufactured drama I'd created, and cornered myself into receiving another...
Reality Check.

McGovern Player of the Finals - Game 2.

Fuck. I'm disappointed for several reasons. The Spurs losing is an obvious cause which I'll gloss over for now. The lack of Jonah Hill commercials is also a mixed bag. I'm mostly concerned about my lack of game awareness. During the game, I was texted by an individual with around a paragraph of vitriol for Ginobili. I immediately dismissed this as a common-place reaction to my polarizing scoring system. Haters gonna hate.
It's relevant to know that at this point I was several Beast-lights deep into what I had pre-ordained as the most heavy point-exchange of the Finals. This also happened during a commercial break during which I was running back and forth between my fridge, my recycling can and my computer on the other side of the basement. I'll be the first to admit I was caught red-handed texting someone who I thought was entirely someone else throughout most of the game. If only I had simply read the area code of the number... or realized any concept of timing. I didn't..
The fact that I had added yet another FAGGOT to the list kind of excited me. This FAGGOT happens to be a long-time hater of the McGovern Player of the Finals - and predictably a LeBron lover. He'll be referred to only as NOS. He sent me a rather degrading E-mail regarding my point system before game 1 began. As the astute individual I am however, I simply informed him about a few key facts. One of which was that my point system seemed to be universally embraced: even by a hockey player among others. And that my post detailing the intricacies of my point system had an all-time hit-high. Told.
Coming into game two I had received a few Jonah Hill references from random readers. I figured this would be a coming down party for Mr. Hill's point total. One particular picture of him alongside Dale Jr. prompted me to give him a -10 point total to start the game.
Tim Duncan came out roaring and I had hoped he might be my man, this game. Here's the way it worked out... No commas this time. For every comma during my last post, google + tried to hyperlink me to something, usually the show 24 - I'm not sure why. As many commas as are quantifiable in my last post, is at least how many times I had to exit a hyperlink. Edit: it's still happening. Anyway...

HEAT:
Allen: +1 +1 +1 +1
Anderson: +1 +1 +1
Bosh +1 +2 +3 +2
Chalmers +1 -4 +1
Cole + 1
James -1* +1 +1 -1* +1 +1 +1 +1 +1+1*
Lewis +1 +2
Wade -1 +1 +1

Spurs:
Bellinelli +1
Diaw +1 +1 -1 +1
Duncan +1 +1 +1 +1 +1 -2
Ginobili -1 +1 +1 +1 +1 -1
Green +1 +1 +1
Leonard +1 +1
Mills +1 +1
Parker +1 +1 +1
Splitter +1 +1 +2 +1

*Inexcusable edit: The asterisks on James's points regard different things. His initial subtraction was because he yet again used "dog" in his pre-game pep-talk. The second was because of a "hard work" Gatorade commercial. His third was because I felt he looked at a ref the wrong way.

McGovern FAGGOT of the Game:
Heat fans: 0 (don't count them out - it is cumulative after-all and their chant enrages me)
M. Jackson: -1 -1 -1 -1 -1
J. Hill -10 -2 -2
Refs -1 -1 -1
Nos 0 (for now)

FAGGOT notes:
Don't count out Heat fans. They may be in a statistical hole, but every-time they perform that dumbass chant - which only seems to happen when their team is already winning, although I'll admit it's seemingly effective - I'm suspect to flip and subtract a massive point total. Whatever number first enters my head. Imagining it enrages me to an extent where I'd almost subtract something currently.

J. Hill: this fat fuck said 'real talk' during a clip; -10. I subsequently added any 22 Jumpstreet reference to his ability to lose points.

Nos: Well, well, well... when you threaten the big dog, you're likely to be bitten. No apologies here. As a supposed non-facebook user, you seem to have an interesting knowledge of the MPOTF point system's inner workings. If this was your goal: mission accomplished. One Taiwanese person is officially on the radar of the sports conglomerate known in the East only as MPOTF. I can add associations at will, subtract points on a whim and make-up stories wholly to warn. You have been.. warned.

Worthless piece of dog-shit lyin' in the road.

My title is quite literally how one of my friends referred to the other friends' entire family upon moving to NC.
Imagine a Hatfield & McCoy type feud devoid of anything interesting. This was the Rockholt - Baker feud of old.
The first encounter is fresh in my mind. I was playing Goldeneye - the first FPS that it mattered to be good at - inside when my father told me to quit and to talk to the guy at the top of my driveway. This guy was rollerblading back and forth, clearly in no rush to be anywhere. I'll admit, I was kind of intimidated as a new-comer to the neighborhood. Someone rollerblading around your property line has that effect. Deliberate, I'm sure.
I walked the trek to the "top of the road" as it's referred to down here; known everywhere else as, the street. I met a guy who I thought was a roller-hockey badass/enforcer. After asking me about my origins, he proceeded to give me a few breakdowns on Southern history and culture. He informed me about ins and outs of the civil war I wasn't aware of. George Washington had fought for the South, among other things. He also informed me, unintentionally, that "down here, we don't waste time sayin' whole words" my grammar was lacking. This was my first snap-shot of Southern culture. His name was Cody Baker.
I later discovered a different subtly of the neighborhood. I was hanging out with Cody at a neighbors house, shooting hoops - I later found out this neighbor was an evangelical christian. These two shady characters in hoodies showed up. This weirdo from my bus who had made strange faces at me and his tall, silent friend. I get the feeling they had more interest in me than in Cody but I bit my tongue for the time being. They hung out yet didn't disclose or volunteer their names. It was slightly akward.
Later that night, Cody's mom called him inside - literally. I was left standing around with this closet christian I didn't know, and two other shady street members. It's pertinent to know at this time, both of the shady 'others' of the neighborhood were sizing me up, not exactly knowing what to think of me - as I may be on Cody's "side." There was literally a family divide on the street that I wasn't aware of.
A random dog was following one of them, which I approached and petted.
"What's his name?" I questioned.
"Max." shady #1 answered.
"What's your name?" Shady #2 answered for him: "Jarred" (nearly as worthless as Jonah, but I didn't disclose this information at the time).
"So you wanna come over?" Jarred asked.
I accepted and we walked down the barren street of Babe Stillwell toward his house. Along the way, Shady #2 revealed his name to be Roddy and asked me several questions about Cody and his well-being.
"You know Cody is full of shit right? Everything he says is a load of dog shit" he stated.
"Uh, well I just met him a few days ago.."
"A Baker (Cody's last name) is like a worthless pile of dog-shit lyin' in the road."
This kind of flabbergasted me. I admittedly burst out laughing while looking toward former shady #1, Jarred as his name apparently was. He simply nodded. These people really are dumb inbred fucks - was a thought that passed through my head.
Nonetheless, we kept walking toward Jarred's residence while Roddy kept telling me how worthless the entire Baker clan was. Despite how ignorant I perceived him, along with everyone I had met on the street, I followed them and was entertained.
Upon entering the Douglas residence, I was met by a short, stocky woman in Jarred's mom. Upon entry she greeted me warmly whereupon Roddy asked "Mrs. Douglas, how dumb is a Baker?"
She laughed hysterically and didn't answer.
There's more to this portion of the story - but it isn't a part of this story. It mostly involves Jarred's brother and his friends scaring the shit out of me. Little did they know..
I felt I had been duped. The entire first few days I had been soaking up everything my first friend on the street, Cody Baker, had told me.
I was still skeptic of both sides, as neither had given me convincing evidence that anything they said was credible. This Jarred character told me the Jaguar XJ220 was the fastest car in the world - I insisted it was the McLaren F1.
When Roddy wasn't telling me about how terrible the Bakers were, he was insisting a Chevelle was the fastest car in the world at a quarter mile... and that his dad had more tools than mine.
I'd also like to emphasize that these tellings are mere morsels of my historic storytelling capability. Yes -  if you've ever met me, just know that you're never safe. I am the sole master of my vaults' domain. Air traffic controllers, economists, coke throwers, lawyers: none of you are safe - pun intended.

Fast-forwarding several years, I think it's clear who was right among the important points. I was pretty-much right about everything, including Deinonychus being the dinosaur that inspired "Velociraptors" (in reality a chicken sized dinosaur, comparative to archeopteryx - an ancient chicken) in Jurassic Park.
And although his counterpart seemed to be wrong about pretty much everything, Roddy was entirely right about Cody Baker.
Upon being friends with anyone else on the street. He started to make up random rumors about me, which I found even more insulting as I felt I was his sole defender among social circles.
Things came to a head when he told "everyone" he found me "all coked out in Food Lion." A ridiculous statement for several reasons. The obvious being I hadn't done coke yet. And even if I had been theoretically coked up - I like to think I would've shopped at Harris Teeter anyhow. My idol, Patrick Bateman, definitely wouldn't shop at Food Lion.

... And tonight. Tonight, I was traversing what I believe to be my street, in my Tercel - from hell - when I saw a sign in the Bakers' lawn when rounding a corner upon my return trip. "Interesting," I thought to myself. I wondered if Cody was there, and how it'd look if I showed up. Would I be scorned, welcomed or glanced over? Had he told his family about my supposed coke affair? Does Jeff Baker still sport a mustache? After 20 minutes or so of deliberation and a couple of beers I decided there was only one way to find out.
On with my sandals and off I went. A trek across the street to a fish fry. As I walked down the Baker's gravel driveway I felt an ominous sense of confidence. A couple who I will only describe as "fishing people" were walking up the driveway as I trekked down.
"Is Cody there?" I asked.
"Yeah bud, right there."
I thanked the nondescript fisherman and continued. Honestly, my entry beyond that point felt somewhat rape related. Everyone looked at me strangely, I kind of figured I wasn't welcome, yet I entered anyway. Baker rapist?
I strolled right up to Cody.  "Hey, how's it goin' "bahs" (his version of "boys," to this day I still don't know if it's a throwback to the slave terminology "boss") - I said.
His look was obvious from the start. He looked like he had seen a ghost. I won't say this had played into my hand - as for once, I had no agenda. Yet I had planned for this contingency on my short walk over anyhow. It was his party and he was totally panicking. Upon realizing my eventual boot I decided to pull a card out of a certain Kasey Kahne's playbook: sandbaggin' it.
He had said nothing at this point, he was sweating, looked extremely nervous and confused.
"Hey man... should I just leave? It's alright." I questioned, with an admittedly faux victim-of-the-moment tone. Knowing of course, that he was the most uncomfortable person there.
"I can just leave, if I'm intruding - no big deal man." I reiterated.
"Nah, just one sec, man." He struggled to say.
In the meanwhile I talked to a few of his friends who I told how long I'd known him and how we used to go fishing - both of which are true.
A minute or so later he stumbled up to me and said "Hey man, you wanna talk over here?" Insinuating there was some lonesome isolated position which didn't exist in actuality. I have to admit at this point I was kind of enjoying this charade.
"Where? 'Top o-the road? Cody, if you want me to leave, it's cool man, just give me a nod."
"Nah man, it ain't like that." He insisted.
"This is just kinda.."
"A family thing?" I finished his sentence with.
"Yeah! I mean, uh, no offense man."
"I wouldn't have expected any less, none taken."
And I left. My tail not between my legs but scorned nonetheless. Proud that I had simply showed my, drunken face, for some reason - although everyone there was far worse - and heavier.
This might been written a bit sooner if a certain character who I'll refer to as "Boom" didn't cahoot with an enemy, steal my title and then distract me with a new fighting game release.
Regardless I ended up walking down my driveway, listening to the Bakers party, not sure if I was the victor or victim of yet another...
Reality Check.

McGovern Player of the Finals - Game 1

A few brief notes before I get to the actual point break-downs for game 1. I was reading an article in Yahoo! sports before the game had began and for some reason on the sidebar which recommends similar articles that may be of interest, there was a random link to something like "Jonah Hill, longtime supporter of gays, apologizes for slur." I don't normally click on any entertainment related articles, however the placement of this one amongst sports articles piqued my curiosity enough to do so.
As per usual with any entertainment article it was written with over the top PC-ness and ridiculously in general. The entire thing described how Mr. Hill was goaded by a paparazzo who insulted his family into emitting some incredibly foul anti-gay slur. And Jonah (what a fucking terrible name - by the way) being overly apologetic regarding his behavior to the LGBT community. The article essentially danced around the situation while not listing the slur at hand. Eventually the term was revealed to be none other than faggot - yes.
I wasn't initially sure how I felt about this. I find Jonah Hill to be fat, worthless, terrible and I suspect the only way I'd laugh at him would involve his death. On the other hand, I liked what he said yet... he apologized - even if it was fake. I ended up deciding to continue disliking him anyway. I have yet to see him in anything good and his mere presence always seems to annoy me somehow.

On to the game:
* LeBron started out the game with -1 point because I didn't like the way he used the word "dog" in his pre-game team-huddle speech. It just sounded forced and terrible.

McGovern Player of the Game:

HEAT:***
R. Allen: +2, +1, -1, +2 (4)
Anderson: +1, +1
Bosh: +1, +1, +2, +1, +1 (6)
Chalmers: -1, -1, -1, +2 (-1)
Cole: +1
L. James: -1*, -1**, +1, +1, +2, +1, -3 (0)
Lewis: +1, +1
Wade: -1, +2, +1, +1, +1 (4)

Spurs:
Belinelli: -2
Diaw: +2, +1, +1, +1
Duncan: -1, +1, +1, +2, -1, +1 (3)
Ginobili: +1, +1, +1, +1, +1, +1, +1, -1, +1, +1 (8)
Green: -1, +1, -1, -1, +2, +1 (1)
K. Leonard: -1, -1, -1, -1, +1 (-3)
P. Mills: +1, +1
Parker: +1, +1, +1, -1, +2 (4)
Splitter: -1, -1, -1, -1, +1 (-3)

** Upon seeing and disliking the entirety of the Beats commercial - the athletes, celebrities and entertainers alike, I gave LBJ yet another -1 for his inclusion.
*** After the HEAT lost a game without AC, in the heat, I decided to detract another -1 from the entire team, giving them in actuality -1 to whatever their point total in parentheses lists. This could end up making a difference if any HEAT players end up with tied total games won, where the tiebreak is based on cumulative point total.

McGovern FAGGOT of the Game:
HEAT Fans: 0
M. Jackson: -1, +1, +1
Refs: -2, -1
J. Hill: -4, -2, -2

FAGGOT notes: (points in this category are almost always negative, positives coming when a participant, willingly or not, does something that pleases me temporarily)

A newcomer to this category; I never cared much for Mark Jackson as a commentator in general, but found him acceptable before his coaching tenure at Golden State I suppose. Since his return I've found most of his commentary to be utterly bland and to often ruin the flow of Jeff Van Gundy's poignant yet pragmatic commentary. This often provokes a pseudo playful banter between them, which I find entirely unbearable. Where Van Gundy and Jackson used to butt-heads with back and forth verbal jabs, now it seems as if Van Gundy is too nice and secedes a little too much. I could blame Van Gundy for this, however I suspect it's because of Jackson getting fired, then immediately coming back into the announcing crew basically the next day. I don't pity the fool who is pitied. His 2 positive points were for a well placed "He Got Game" Ray Allen reference and a comment that rightfully made Van Gundy sound like an idiot for being overly nice.

I've thought about putting the refs in this category for years and upon seeing a few calls I put them in sometime in the second quarter. No explanation necessary.

It was with annoyance and open arms that I saw Jonah Hill, the equally untalented Ice Cube - perhaps the worst rapper turned actor of all time slightly ahead of Ja Rule (because he was in a Seagal movie) - and another tool devoid of personality pop-up during the commercial breaks for the game, for a special unentertaining segment. I'll admit after reading the article earlier I actually laughed for a second upon immediately adding Jonah Hills name to the FAGGOT list, with an immediate -4. As of now I plan on subtracting 2 everytime I see one of those shitty crossover ads. Another deduction everytime a 22 Jumpstreet ad comes on isn't out of the spectrum of possibilities either.

A brief history of a timeline: The McGovern Player of the Finals.

Initially, I wanted to delay this 'til tomorrow when I would probably be more sober. I'll be the first to admit that sober, I'm a much better writer. A couple of things have happened since then have helped me not to dissuade myself from drunken typing, though.

As usual I took the decision out of my hands and left it to my dog and the Duel of Fates. I cranked the song up NASCAR style and decided the decision was on him. If he barked I write. So...
I'll start by mentioning that I don't like statistics in modern sports. I also don't like how statistics now seem to determine qualities that I believe are unquantifiable. Tennis is a great example of this. One can look at errors, unforced or not, winners, aces, etc. but have concept no of how the match was played.

From the age of 5, I had a neighborhood friend who would always play basketball with me in Connecticut. Probably because I had the best hoop in the neighboorhood but he would always pretend he was Jordan and I would always be Pippen. This probably predisposed me somewhat in my predilection for Scotty Pippen. I always felt he was dis-proportionally under-represented compared to MJ. When MJ left he was the first player in history (no not Oscar Robinson) to lead his team in every stat category. An ironic feat as I claim stats don't matter, yes.

Fast-forwarding to the year 1999. I had been gearing up to watch the NBA playoffs while playing NBA Hangtime. The N64 -better- version of the widely acclaimed NBA Jam. At the time I felt the game was racist because two huge white players who I felt were inconsequential kept denying me. Arvydas Sabonis and Bryant "Big Country" Reeves specifically. I started to hate the Blazers...

However as the '99 playoffs continued a couple of other factors helped change my tune. Bill Walton was one. I'll admit I didn't know he was a Blazer at the time but I still miss his "announcing" which consisted of him screaming passionately about random Blazer plays - almost all of which were great passes or blocks.
No NBA team has ever came back from an 0-3 deficit, however the Trailblazers were one of a few to do attempt the feat this year against my second most hated team at the time. The team was the Mavericks and my most hated player of the era - Dirk Nowitzki.

Sabonis played limited minutes at this point as his knees were awful and this was the end of his NBA career. That withstanding, he had easily the largest impact on the series of any player, other than Nowitzki, begrudgingly. Not only did his insertion to the line-up facilitate the 0-3 come back, it totally disrupted Nowitzki. Arvydas blocked him out and passed around him like a rag-doll. One play in particular, was the best pass I've ever witnessed.

When this happened live... there was a break. The Blazers ended up losing and no matter how much I claimed Sabonis was dominant - claiming the best +/- and efficiency per 48 mins (in the entire playoffs + .513 FG%) by a large margin I was unheard.

After much blowback from a bunch of haters regarding any opinion I had regarding the NBA I concluded that the popular appeal of professional sports had corrupted what it truly meant to be a great player. Highlights trumped results. Numbers topped names. Marketing overruled emotion. As a "true romantic" I had been labeled as at the time - I decided it was time to change the entire culture of sports. I desired an accolade based on the emotionally charged moment combined with the universal balance of timing. It was bourne. The most emotionally charged, utterly subjective, biased and opinionated accolade the world wanted but would never admit it wanted - yet judged on a point system. You often hear "haters gonna hate." Well, the McGovern player of the Finals could be described as "hater gonna rate."

The rules are simple: they're whatever I decide. They're fair, yet fluid. Every player is eligible to become a Player of the Finals (except Mike Miller). Their play is judged both on their finals play and their relative play-level compared to their average performance. This makes the system uniquely rewarding. Players like Shane Battier for instance - would never be eligible for a Finals MVP award - even if they step up and play 513% of their realistic aptitude. Is it fair if LeBron gets the Heat the finals and under-performs? No - which is why Shane Battier is a former McGovern Player of the Finals during the Heats first championship tenure.

Accolades aside, I feel the true beauty of my point system is in its adaptability. I award players normally +1-2 points based on their performance throughout the game. The adaptability comes into play because I simultaneously detract points for lack of performance. LBJ doesn't score for 5 game minutes: -1 point. Ray Allen misses two consecutive free throws - 2. Clutch free throws missed - 3 maybe. Ray Allen's game 6 winning shot vs the Spurs last year? +400. I specifically like that example as it's utterly ridiculous, yet I haven't met anyone who disagrees with it.

To boot: there is a separation of games aspect. Ray Allen for instance, won the highest point total for the aforementioned game (and any game) - with +406. However, he didn't win the player of the Finals, but Parker did. Parker had a higher point total in the other combined games. The number of games won determines the winner - a tactic the world cup seems to have adopted during the group stage. Recently was actually the first time in McGovern Player of the Finals history the award didn't go to a player from the winning team.

There are two sides to every coin, unfortunately. The downsides to the McGovern player of the Finals are apparent - and the blow back from the sports community "heavy-weights" are what you'd expect. Angry anti-progressive Yankee fans seem to really dislike the system specifically. Some of them have even gone so far as to destroy the archives in what I would only describe as a gluten-fueled jealous rage. Unfortunately, they merely fueled yet another evolution of the system.

For light, there must be darkness. The second face and subsequent phase of the McGovern player of the Finals has risen, like a phoenix. The McGovern FAGGOT of the Finals. It annoys me that I have to make this distinction, but I'm using FAGGOT as a general pejorative, not some anti-homosexual term. And this is where things get complicated.

McGovern players of the Finals is limited to players on the actual teams at hand. McGovern FAGGOT of the Finals, however, has no limits. It can be a person on the sideline making a facial expression I don't care for, a coach or an entire fan-base. It's pertinent to know Heat fans are the first ever 2-year consecutive champions of this category. Bandwagon pieces of shit at their worst. Yet, the total point leader of FAGGOT still resides with an opponent of the Heat. A mister Jason Terry. The year the Mavs beat the Heat he was actually in position to win his second player of the game award - when his post-game interview went sour... fast. He went from +12 points to -5,000,000. He remains the all-time leader in that category by a large margin over Mike Miller, at a mere -468.

Given the overwhelming response from both sides: I'm going to try to document this year's entire process online. I figured I'd give my readers a heads up in case the lawyers want to get involved. Specifically a certain lawyer who doesn't want a ...
Reality Check.