Tuesday, January 8, 2008

You Get What You Pay For

It is tough to feel shafted after you have paid $10 for a ticket to a pro basketball game, walked right past the security guards and into the $120 seats. This is what happened to me (plus my girlfriend and two buddies of mine) while I was in Charlotte for New Year's Eve. We all decided to go the game, at the predictably 33% capacity Bobcats Arena. In fact, the game, against the Pacers, was an awesome contest that went to overtime and saw that thrice annual "holy fu#king sh!t, Gerald Wallace is awesome" display (usually, I have lost that loving feeling by the next game when he shoots 3-16 and commits 5 fouls with 8 minutes still to go in the 3rd). That part was great. Hey, even the crowd started to get into it in the final few minutes -- as opposed to numerous lulls in the action when there was legitimately not a sound heard in the entire arena. Fortunately, for the super fans 3 rows in front of us, they made sure to scream loudly "Put Okafor In." Then, quite a few folks in the crowd would laugh (from various corners of the arena), Sam Vincent would look embarrassed and Morrison would take an insulin shot behind the bench.
But, that is not really my point. In this day and age when most of us in the blogosphere, or even those that just read blogs regularly, feel that we would be superior employees within the league in almost every capacity, I get that point reinforced with such a ferocity and completeness that I really have to wonder (even more so than normal) if people that work for the NBA are infected with a FU#KING MORON virus. During the halftime show, we were subjected to this:







The laughter you hear in the first video is me. I cannot contain myself. I am laughing about how pissed I would be if I dropped $250 for a courtside seat and got AIR RUFUS AND THE BLOWUPS for my halftime show! I would be in the asylum. I thought "This can not be happening."

My point is, someone thought this would be a good idea. The same kind of person that though Battlefield Earth would be a good idea. That thought the Titanic would be a good idea. That thought 2 Girls, 1 Cup (no link provided. You are welcome) was a good idea. Do you see what I mean? If I applied for the presumably, newly vacated job of Entertainment Coordinator for the Bobcats, I wouldn't get a second thought, even though I have 2 degrees from a great school, plenty of experience, and judging based on this blog, I know what funny is. But whomever birthed this debacle from their wretched womb still, probably, has that job. When you pay people $22,000 a year, they puke up this crap. It is almost as unbelievable as Isiah. Almost.

Go screw yourself, NBA. I'd rather watch "Hatchet vs. Genitals."

If anyone who reads this blog (and you know you are out there) has ever seen a more inexplicable halftime show that this, please leave a comment. That way, I can pity someone besides myself.

Luckily, we went out and figured out some solutions.

 
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