Chris Webber: Star-crossed and now retired

Did I cause Chris Webber to retire?

Because if I did, I didn't mean to.

One day after I wrote an article in which I basically said (among other things) that I can't wait to see if Michael Beasley ends up becoming a failure like him (bad as it sounds and as bad as I felt writing it, that's what it was and that's the way I feel), Webb has decided to call it a career. He goes out on a whimper.

The disappointing, ill-fated arc of Chris' career started 15 years ago in New Orleans, at the Superdome, in the Wolverine's second consecutive NCAA title game appearance, when Webb called the timeout his team didn't have against North Carolina. It is one of the most imfamous and costly gaffes in sports history, no question, but it's real weight rests in it's foreshadowing and symbolism: it was sad, it was unfortunate, and it was the first hint that perhaps Webber was not one that was meant for the big moments. Remember, before he called the timeout he clearly traveled; I was like 5 years old when that happened, but if it happened today, I would immediately be like, "Uh-oh. Can this guy be trusted? Should a potential NBA franchise guy look that nervous in crunch-time? Isn't this a serious cause for concern?"

Webber was the leader of the greatest class of players on one team in college basketball history, and the coolest amateur squad ever. Just as much, the young Webber gave the world a glimpse of basketball perfection: 6-10, long-limbed, grown-man body. Impossibly soft hands, some of the best ever. Explosive and agile. Ran the court like a guard, handled and dished like one, too. Shot with range and finished around the hoop with touch. He was the complete package, and then some.

And by most standards, he had an outstanding NBA career. He played 15 seasons, winning Rookie of the Year, making 5 All-Star teams and a first-team All-NBA in 2001. Led the league in rebounding in '99 (the strike year, but still). He averaged 21, 10, and 4 for his career and was the best player on some really good Sacramento teams. He was one of the best passing big men of all-time and one of the top-3 power forwards of his era. And when he peaked from 2000-2003 with Sacramento - 24.8 points, 10.6 rebounds, 4.7 dimes, 1.5 steals and 1.5 blocks on 48 percent shooting - the four position, at least offensively, peaked with him. 19 footers, hook shots, murderous dunks, in-game contests with Vlade to see who could throw the more deft wrap-arounds, ludicrous handle for a man his size, and ball-control wizardry. I'll never forget it. Then, when a knee injury robbed him of his athleticism at 30, he learned to play on the ground, relying on supreme basketball skill and knowledge to remain a highly effective, 19 and 9-type player, the version of him that I admired the most.

Yet with Webber, we'll always remember him for who he wasn't and what he didn't do than what he was and what he did do. We'll remember that despite the gifts that should've made him the best power forward ever, he never won an MVP and never played in the Finals. We'll remember the bad moments, like his shrinking performance in the waning moments of Game 7 of the 2002 Western Conference Finals. We'll remember the moments that made him seem like the unluckiest basketball player in the world, like that fateful night in Louisiana or when he blew out his knee in Game 2 of the 2003 Western Semi's against Dallas, just when it seemed that the Kings had the best team and were going to win the whole damn thing. We'll remember that he was injury prone. We'll remember the fact that he played in back-to-back NCAA title games and lost both of them, a precursor to his pro career and his ultimate legacy:

He couldn't win the big one.

Is that fair? I guess. But whatever the case, Webber seemed satisfied today at the press conference announcing his retirement. He says he doesn't feel like going through the drudges of rehabbing his troublesome knee and that he's happy with what he's accomplished, which is good, and which is definitely the most important thing.

But for the rest of us? It's just the final chapter in the saga of an incomplete and mischanced career.

The Talented Mr. Beasley

You know, the more I think about it, I don't know if I've ever anticipated an amateur athlete's transition into a professional sports league like I'm awaiting Michael Beasley's into the NBA. Well, other than Reggie Bush. And LeBron - well, obviously LeBron. Oh, oh, and Kevin Dura-- well, you get the point. I was excited about those guys, and I'm very eager to see how this Beasley guy pans out.

You see, Beasley is the most gifted college power forward since Chris Webber, and is often compared to a young Derrick Coleman. Beasley is 6-10, he's left-handed, he has an NBA-ready body, he can score with his back to the basket or facing up, he's a very good three-point shooter, he can handle it, he led the nation in rebounding this season. I can't see him struggling with the game of basketball.

Of course, that's only half the battle. Coleman had all the tools to be a legend, but was lazy as hell and a complete misfit. Webber was arguably even more talented, and was a much better pro - 5-time All-Star, 2001 All-NBA 1st Team, still at 20 and 10 for his career - but he was one of the least clutch superstars of the past 20 years, and he was never quite as good as he could've/should've been. More than anything, he just seemed like an unlucky guy: starting with the timeout in '93 and culminating ten years later - when Chris blew out his knee in the second round of the '03 playoffs, just when it seemed that the Kings had the best team in the league and he was finally going to win the Big One and forever extricate himself from columns like this - Webber is without a doubt the most star-crossed athlete of my lifetime. Doomed from the very start.

(Notice how everything in the previous paragraph about Webber was written in the past tense, even though officially he's still on an NBA roster.)

In a similar vein, this article about Beasley from his senior year in high school makes him sound like the black version of Dennis the Menace: tagging, throwing sticks at teacher's houses, wearing pajamas to the school cafeteria, etc., and eventually getting kicked out of Oak Hill for his antics. Obviously he was young then, and he's still young; he'll mature with age, as we all do. And he's already shown signs - earlier this year, he was quoted as saying:

"I'm still a kid; I'm still irresponsible and I want to still be irresponsible sometimes. When I go to the NBA, that's over. My life is America's life. LeBron James gets a speeding ticket, the cop goes on with his day and LeBron is all over 'SportsCenter.' Britney Spears shaves her head, it's everywhere. You shave your hair, who cares? That's why I'm not sure I'm ready for the NBA.

"I mean, what's being famous anyway? It's a popularity contest. Don't get me wrong. I'm lucky. I love my life, but I just don't understand it. I brush my teeth with the same Crest. I use the same bar of soap. My house gets junky just like yours. I'm just a regular guy who can play basketball. I'm normal."

Those are the words of a well-grounded, level-headed, self-aware young man. While it may be immature for him to say that he still wants to be immature sometimes, it shows maturity that he realizes that he may not yet be mature enough for the NBA, if you follow me. By all accounts, he's been on his best behavior this year at K-State. And nobody ever said he was a bad kid, only that he makes bad decisions. He's never been in any real trouble. He doesn't have any priors, or anything like that (although immaturity can lead a person in that direction). So maybe he'll turn out just fine.

Or, maybe he won't.

And that's kind of the point: I don't know. Nobody does. That's why whenever there's a concern about a prospect, be it his character or his size or his fragility or whatever, it's called a question mark; there is no definitive solution yet, and there is no foolproof way to predict. Which is why Beasley is so intriguing to me. Will he prove to be a troublemaker, a talented but juvenile headache for every team he plays on, someone who generally drives everyone around him crazy? The WaPo piece also said that he stopped lifting weights because the gym wasn't warm enough and he didn't want to catch a cold. Will his skill-set dwarf his desire?

In other words, will he ultimately end up frustrating and pissing us off, like Coleman did?

In the end will he leave us disappointed, confused, and feeling a little sympathetic for him, like Webber did?

Or will he cash in on his vast potential, like those two never completely did?

That is the query. The answer lies in wait, just over the horizon.

I really, really dislike Bruce Bowen

Bruce Bowen, on his recent 1-game supension for striking Chris Paul with his leg:

"I'm a Christian. Sometimes when we feel like we're wrongfully accused, you have to look at it as people we try to emulate our lives after were wrongfully accused. It's about how you handle that, more than anything else."

Now, I wasn't around for the first half of Bill Laimbeer's career, so I can't really speak to the vitrolic hatred all basktball players and fans outside of Detroit had for him back in the day. But no worries...with Bowen around, I know what it's like to carry an intense dislike for someone I don't even know. I don't understand why Basketball nation doesn't have more contempt for him than they show - this is a guy that sticks his foot under the offensive player when he's up in the air on a jumpshot, which has led to sprained ankles for Steve Francis, Jamal Crawford, and Vince Carter. He kneed Steve Nash in the groin, kicked Amare Stoudemire in the ankle from behind as Amare went up for a dunk, and kicked Wally Sczerbiak in the face like he was Bruce Leroy. He also likes to try and trip people. His most recent offense was the aforementioned cheap shot on Paul (although it did look like CP3 might have delivered a sneaky little low-blow of his own - might have). As always, he threw his hands up and acted like he didn't do anything, which may be the part that pisses me off the most. Now he's bringing his faith into it - and using it for a deceitful purpose, to make his disingenuosness seem more genuine. I mean, what kind of person does that? What the hell is up with this guy? Do his teammates really like him? And if they do, what does that say about them? I'm not even trying to ride the high horse, but this Bruce Bowen character has gotta be stopped, man. He's gotta be stopped.

Will somebody just punch him in the face already?

Bobby Knight: Calm Before the Storm

"You think this is funny, don't you Rece? You think this is a goddamned joke."

You know who's really good on TV? Bobby Knight. Obviously he knows a lot about basketball, but he's also articulate and precise in giving his points. But the best part about the "Bob Knight as ESPN basketball analyst" gimmick/experience is that while he hasn't gone off yet, you know that there's a chance that he will, and it could happen at any moment. Actually, it's not just a chance that he's going to lose it at some point, it's an inevitably. He probably genuinely likes his peers (Hubert Davis, Digger, Bilas, and Vitale) and I'm sure he respects them and their opinions because he knows they've all coached/played before, but from what he's shown us over the years, I mean, he's gotta detest shows of this nature, even though he decided to be a part of it, if that makes any sense. And by nature he must hate Reece Davis, in the same way that dogs carry animosity towards cats.

One of these nights during the Tourney, Rece is going to do something like ask him the question two different ways, or try and play Devil's Advocate on one of the answers he gives, and Knight's gonna snap and say:

"Now you listen to me, you little f----n' pip squeak, this ain't a presidential debate and I'm not here to argue this s--t with you. You're not Hilary and I'm not Obama so I'm not gonna sit here and go back and forth with you."

And then Rece is going to try and undermine the situation, but Knight is gonna cut him off mid-sentence.

"Shut that s--t up. It's my turn to talk, you talk too much as it is. You sit here every f----n' night and ask me these stupid goddamned questions with that little smirk on your face. You think I enjoy your bulls--t? (his anger increases, and he begins to forcefully rip off his microphone) I'm gettin' the f--k outta here. I don't have time to deal with this bulls--t."

(walking off set now)

"And you don't have to bleep a single, goddamned f----n' word of this when you show it on your 11:00 piece of horses--t rerun, either "

Houston, We Are Gonna Have A Problem

You won't see a sign like that for a while after tonight.

(Photo edited by Kane Dinsay)

Hey folks, glad to be writing for you again!

I have been as amazed as everyone elese about the sudden emergence of the Houston Rockets. Winning 22 straight games, jumping from 10th to 1st in the Western Conference in the process, including becoming undefeated without Yao Ming. However, although they deserve credit for the streak with Yao, let me just say I think the streak after Yao Ming's absence has been a farce.

Here is why:

1. The Houston Rockets have not placed a significant big man in the games after Yao Ming's absence. They beat Washington (Won by 25), Memphis (Won by 21), Denver (Won by 14), Indiana (Won by 18 with no Jermaine O'Neal), Dallas (won by 15 with no Dirk), New Orleans (Won by 20), New Jersey (Won by 18), Atlanta (Won by 8), Charlotte (Won by 9), Los Angeles Lakers (Won by 12 with no Pau Gasol).

2. In the games with known big men: Denver (Kenyon Martin), New Orleans (Tyson Chandler), Atlanta (Al Horford), and Charlotte (Emeka Okafor), have had great games. They all in total averaged 15.2 points and grabbed 11 rebounds between the four of them.

3. They have been shooting lights out. Take a look at the last game they played, against the Los Angeles Lakers. They made 12-26 3 pointers, 8 from Rafer Alston. Do not expect that to fly for long. Ask the Phoenix Suns, you live by the 3, you usually die of it. (Then you make a idiotic move in trading a quick freak of an athlete, Shawn Marion, for a Big Slow Delusional Cactus)

4. Their defense might be good, but the Boston Celtics play even better D. The Celtics also have the momentum, cathing up from 22 down to beat the Spurs the night before.

5. No one will guard Kevin Garnett. The very young and talented 23 year old Dikembe Mutumbo has barely played over 20 minutes in recent games. However, when Luis Shorty Scola cannot reach KG's face, Mutumbo will probably be put in for defensive purposes, taking an offensive option away from the Rockets.

Good luck to Houston tonight, but I just do no envision them stopping Garnett. KG probably cannot see it happening either.

To Be Continued...

Rockets turn 21

About 2 seconds ago, the buzzer sounded on the Rockets' 21st consecutive win, an 89-80 victory over the Bobcats in Houston. And so we have ourselves a wholly unique situation: a team with the second longest winning streak in NBA history, that also has no shot of winning the championship. Hell, they might not even make it out of the first round. Obviously, that's entirely too negative a tone to start off with, but in no way do I mean to be critical. I just wanted to point out how crazy that is.

Anyways, I think the most amazing thing may not be the streak itself, but the streak inside the streak. Houston's last 9 wins have come without Yao - a startling turn of events. I mean, I figured they'd stay afloat - afterall, they went 20-12 without the Big Fella last year - but not lose a step? At all? I think this entire run reinforces two points:

1. Tracy McGrady is a superstar - a dominant scorer and a brilliant passer. He's right up there with LeBron and Duncan and Kobe (yes, Kobe) in terms of the best non-point guard passers in the league - he just knows how to get the ball to his guys in a position to score, and he always keeps them involved in the flow of the game offensively. As Simmons pointed out in the playoffs a couple years ago, when Kobe was playing like Mark Jackson against the Suns, your teammates always play harder and better when they feel like they have a big stake in the outcome of the game. And because McGrady is so unselfish, and his teammates know that he is a team player, when he does decide to take over the game as a scorer, it's all gravy. Mac's found the perfect balance.

2. When you play defense consistent, night-to-night basis, you're always going to be in the game, and you're always going to have a chance to win. Overall, Houston ranks fourth in the league in defensively, allowing about 92 points a night. During the streak, they're holding teams to 84 a game. There's a reason Detroit and San Antonio are always in the mix for a title, and there's a reason Phoenix always falls short (and a reason I worry about my Lakers facing the Spurs in a seven-game series). You gotta play defense. Good defense. That's the strongest foundation you can have.

With that and team play, you can win. It's basketball in it's purest form, the s--t that Smith and Knight demanded, the style of play that gave Larry Brown hard-ons. And the Rockets, in the past 21 games, have mastered it.

The Wire, episode 60: "-30-" ('...the life of kings.' - H.L. Mencken)

Shockingly, I don't have much to say. Not in a speechless way, but in a I just don't have that many thoughts about it kind of way. I discovered "The Wire" in the summer of 2006, and between then and now, it arguably replaced the game of basketball as my most favoritest thing, which is really saying something. To borrow a quote from Michael Jordan and morph it so that it works for me, "The Wire" was my wife. It demanded loyalty and responsibility, and it gave me back fulfillment and peace." Yet now that it's over, I'm just over it. I don't feel sad. It was a great show, the best I've ever watched and the best ever aired on American television. But I'm only writing about it this final time because I'm ready to close that chapter of my life and move on. "The Wire" helped me cope with the brief mediocrity of the Lakers, and the Omar obituary put this blog on the map. And yet I sit here writing this rough draft, and I have no real emotions. "The Wire" deserved better from me, but as Snoop and Bill Munny have taught us, "Deserve's got nothing to do with it."

Anyways, no matter how many different storylines they had going at once (and there were always plenty) - the street was invariably the most interesting one. A few brief notes on that aspect from E60:

- The scene where Michael robs Vinson at the rim shop may have been the hokiest in "Wire" history - Mike's partner had deer-in-the-headlight-is and Vinson was on auto-pilot - but overall, I guess it worked. Mike and Omar share a few obvious traits: independence, intelligence, skill and, as far as killers go, a heightened, obligated moral sense. It also served, along with Dukie's tumble into a life of homelessness and addiction and Sydnor's going outside of the chain of command, to bring home one of the show's final points: the faces and names change, but the positions stay occupied.

"The cyclical manner of the institutional prerogative was going to be asserted," said David Simon in a recent interview.

- "Ain't no back in the day, nigga. Ain't no nostalgia to this shit here. It's just the game, and the street, and what happen here today." - Cheese

- The odds of Marlo staying retired from the street and becoming a legit businessman are highly anorexic. He's just a gangsta, he bleeds red not green, the corner is his country, etc., and that's all there is to him. Sure, he could make millions building condos and owning copy shops and such, but like Jack Nicholson's character in "The Departed," it's not about the money and it never was. No way he changes his stripes. As he told Joe in rebuking the man's final Proposition (that he just disappear from the game, never to be heard from again), "Truth is, you wouldn't be able to change up any more than me."

- If I have one regret about this brilliant show, it's that we never got to see how Chris, who ate the bodies and took life with no parole so that his boss could walk free, ever became so loyal to Marlo. From the closing montage, we see that he is now Jessup-buddies with Wee-Bey, another fiercely loyal, unconscionable hitman who murdered first, asked questions never and then took the fall on behalf of the team. Except we know that Wee-Bey dropped out of school in the sixth grade and started slinging with Avon and Stringer; he grew up with them. What was the connection between Marlo and Chris? This we will never know.

And so it is. The connect is now shared and shared alike by the Co-Op, who will continue to move the dope that kept the MCU wiretapping, had City Hall juking stats, stole kids away from the classroom, and had the city's top newspaper oblivious to it all. It was all connected, and at the end of five seasons, it was all the same. "The seeds of the future are sown throughout Baltimore," the synopsis for the finale told us. Unfortunately, that future looks a lot like the present and past.

So long to "The Wire." Thanks for making me think long and hard about a television show.

The Wire Talk: What's in a name?

Disclaimer: I do not like Marlo. At all.

Cartoonist extraordinare and "The Wire" watcher Steve Lieber (check this out) makes an excellent observation in the comments section of Bethlehem Shoals' most recent Heavenandhere post (a reaction to ep. 59). Lieber contrasts Marlo's now famous "My name is my name!" jailhouse declaration with a statement made by Vondas in Season 2, and points out how it "draws a line between the street and the money." I'd like to expand on that idea. To wit:

Vondas: He knows my name, but my name is not my name. And you...to them you're only "The Greek."

The Greek: And, of course, I'm not even Greek.

It's indicative of the difference in mentality between the two powers. Marlo, like Avon before him, is all about protecting his image and rep in the streets. Pride and manhood, the downfall of many a men. When Stanfield gets angry that Omar was calling him out by name without his knowledge, and proclaims that he's willing to "step to any mothafucka, Omar, Barksdale, whoever," I don't doubt his sincerity for nary a second. Why do you think Chris didn't want him to know? Because he knew that Marlo would've responded in the same impulsive, ultra-masculine manner that he displays in said scene.

Remember in Season 3, after Slim and Cutty's arranged ambush on a Stanfield corner blew up into a complete disaster, and Avon, just recently having been released from prison and with gun in hand, was ready to go down to the streets after Marlo his damn self? Same thing.

The Greek, on the other hand, cares so little about his "name ringing out" that he is known only by a moniker that belies his true nationality.

And Vondas...is not really Vondas.

Is it an age/maturity thing? Maybe. Is it a black/white thing? I don't think so. It's kind of a trite thing to say at this point, but Stringer had the same kind of low-key, profit over public esteem business mind. Did that make him smarter than Avon? Yes, actually. Unfortunately for him, he was too smart for his own good. But that's a whole 'nother story.

Although in the defense of guys like Avon and Marlo, they probably can't help but be the way they are. I'm no psychologist (I got a "D' in Psych 101 and don't plan on re-taking it), but I would conjecture that most thugs are born as such, and are just acting out their nature. Marlo isn't just obsessed with protecting his name because his kingdom is tantamount to it; under no circumstance or in any position, drug kingpin or civilian or whatever, would he shy away from a confrontation with Omar, or anybody else, who invited him to man up. I can picture him as a pubescent little hopper, running around the streets of Baltimore trying to catch pigeons, and standing toe-to-toe, eye-to-eye with anyone - ANYONE - who disrespected him. The ice-cold stare Mike gave him in their initial meeting? Mike telling Namond "I ain't tryna stand around, let a bunch of chump ass niggas think I'm shook. I ain't." That's Marlo ten years ago, that's Marlo today, that's Marlo always.

Now, does that mean that Mike is the next Marlo? I'm not even gonna touch that subject. You wanna scratch that itch, you need to follow that H&H link. They got you.

The Wire, episode 59: "Late Editions"

Like Randall Cunningham in 1998, the fifth season of HBO's "The Wire" is having a resurgence at it nears the end. It started off strong, hit a lull in the middle, but now it's finishing in splendid fashion with the instant classics that were the last two episodes. Omar's death at the hands of Kenard in ep. 58 shook up the world (or at least the message boards), and 59 manged to top it in terms of sheer quality and number of memorable moments.

Marlo's "My name is my name" speech channeled Michael Corleone in "The Godfather," the quiet Don unleashing a strong burst of emotion. It was a showstopper; the camera pans in on Marlo, and any excess sound in the jail that could take away from the moment ceases. All we see or hear is him and his unprecedented anger. Jamie Hector has played the role with frightening, calculating control and hushed wickedness; this marked the first time that we had ever heard Marlo raise his voice. Those 30 seconds belong on the resume, Mr. Hector. At 1A.

Snoop's murder at the hands of Michael also resonated, deep on a number of different levels. Betrayal, truth, tenderness - it was all there. And Snoop's soldier-style exit might end up immortalizing her highly detestable character; all gangster's want to go out like that. When you live the life that she lived, and you do the deeds that she did, death is not only expected, but easily accepted. She knew it was her time to go and she was at peace with it. The game is the game.

Finally, we had Mike, now marked for death, dropping Bug off at an aunt's house and leaving Dukie to a life on the streets. I consider "The Wire" to be an American tragedy, and these were the two most tragic scenes to date. Bug has now lost both his nanny and the only true parent he's ever known; the tears that ran down his cheeks as he said his final goodbye's was enough to make a grown man cry. Even stoic, hardened Mike almost lost it. Dukie has now lost his best friend (and really, we all need friends like Michael), and as Bubs nears a full recovery, he is just beginning to enter the abyss of homelessness and likely addiction. When he tries to reminisce with Mike about the time the crew launched a urine balloon attack on the Terrace Boys in the Season 4 premiere, he's left hanging; Mike tells him he doesn't remember. At 14, Michael's already forgotten what it was like to be a kid. Some sad shit.

This was an iconic episode with multiple iconic scenes, on par with the penultimate episode of "The Sopranos." It was dark and exceedingly depressing, the very epitome of what "The Wire" is all about. Absolutely brilliant.

And now we're down to the last one. How will it end? What will be the fate of McNulty, Marlo, Templeton, etc? Us On Demanders will have to wait two weeks to find out. The finale will NOT be airing a week early. You know it's true what they say, life really isn't fair.

In Loving Memory of Omar Little

Omar Devone Little, a.k.a. "The Terror" (born 1973 or '74), was a Baltimore stick-up artist of legendary proportions. With his trademark facial scar, trenchcoat (black or brown), shotgun (pump action or double barrel), and out-and-out badassness, Omar was the most fearsome and intimidating thug in all of the land, a straight-up menace to the city's drug dealers. With his quick wit and undeniable charm (which lended to his penchant of dropping perfectly-timed one-liners), strict adherance to his code ("I ain't never put my gun on nobody who wasn't in the game"), accountability, and sincere concern for his community, he was also the most likable and respectable. As the show's lone independant, Omar was able to play by his own rules - openly gay, disdain for swear words - in the Alpha Male Capitol: The Steets. You either loved him or hated him but you had to respect him.

We first get to see Omar is action in Season 1, episode 3 ("The Buys"), when he does his initial jacking of the Barksdale stashouse. It was a robbery that would spark a three-season long feud, a conflict that ultimately led to the demise of one Stringer J. Bell. After scoping the scenery with teammates Brandon (his lover) and Bailey, Omar and Co. bust in one night armed and ready to rip and run. With shotty in hand and scowl on face, Omar demands that young Sterling give up the location of the dope ("Ayo, where it at?"). When the boy refuses to budge, Omar puts a buckshot in his leg. This remains perhaps my favorite Omar scene; his swagger is unbelievable and we realize early on just how fierce and serious this guy is. He does not like to repeat himself and he doesn't have time to play. And he can be extremely violent. Stinkum found out. So did String and his muscle. Savino felt his wrath just last week. The man had ice-water in his veins for his adversaries and had no problem delving in murder if he deemed it necessary.

But other than that, he was a great guy. He was gentle with his boyfriends, he cared for his friends, he respected the taxpaying citizen, he took his grandmother to church on Sunday's. He was so charismatic that even some cops (like Kima and McNulty) were won over by him.

Alas, he had a blind spot for the chil'n, and he would fall at the hands of one, shot through the back of the head by that little bastard Kenard, whom he did not consider a threat. He never got to Marlo. His murder was swift and unexpected, probably not unlike the way many guys in his line of work meet their ends. But while it may have been realistic, it didn't really make sense in the context of the character and what he was supposed to symbolize. In Rafael Alvarez's "The Wire: Truth Be Told," David Simon wrote that in all of his Baltimore stories, "there exists a deep and abiding faith in the capacity of individuals. They are, in small and credible ways, a humanist celebration in which hope, though unspoken, is clearly implied." Omar was this show's personification of that optimism, the sole individual operating outside of the rigged institutions the show focuses on. And as such, he beat the odds time and again over five seasons. I thought Omar was supposed to prosper. Why get him got now? Doesn't make sense to me.

But I digress. This isn't about questioning Simon's thinking, it's about remembering Omar, and the courtroom obliteration of Levy, and the heartfelt bench scene with Bunk, and the Mouzone alley scene, and the Spiderman scene, and the "You come at the king, you best not miss" scene. It's about "The Farmer in Dell." It's about paying homage to Michael K. Williams, the actor who breathed life into Omar and then immortalized him with his brilliant perfomance.

May his myth survive his death in Simon's Baltimore after the cameras stop rolling. And may he live on forever with us, the fans, on YouTube and Box Set DVD.

Indeed.

The Top 11 Big Men Dunkers in NBA History

In wake of the show Dwight Howard put on Saturday night in N'awlins, the question can at least be asked: Is he the best big-man dunker of all-time. The short answer is: No. Barkley was saying during the telecast that there's never been anyone as tall as Howard that could jump that high. He is right. The "Superman" dunk he pulled off was simply the coolest ever (even though he didn't really dunk it). And overall, I think his performance in this year's event was as impressive and memorable as any we've seen, including Vince in 2000 in the Bay. But overall? I think he still needs to put in more work before he can stake claim to the title of the baddest.

So if it's not Howard (yet), then who is it? Here goes my list of the top 11 (I wanted to include everybody). I actually think No. 1 is a pretty easy choice. It was the guys directly after that (2-5) that I had the most trouble ranking. I'll let the videos tell the stories. Let the arguing (and the "oohs" and "aahs") begin.

11. Larry Johnson



10. Karl Malone



9. Kevin Garnett



8. Chris Webber



7. Shaquille O'Neal



6. Kenyon Martin



5. Daryl Dawkins



4. Dwight Howard



3. Charles Barkley



2. Amare Stoudemire



1. Shawn Kemp

Mike Bibby to the Hawks

Mike Bibby will be rejuvenated in Atlanta.

David Aldridge is on TNT right now, explaining the parameters:

Sacramento has agreed to trade G Mike Bibby to the Hawks in exchange for second-year F/C Shelden Williams and the expiring contracts of C Lorenzen Wright, G Anthony Johnson, and G Tyronn Lue.

Wow. Atlanta finally has a point guard to go along with the excellent young nucleus of Joe Johnson, Josh Smith, Marvin Williams, Al Horford and Josh Childress. Bibby is a veteran with playoff experience and he's not afraid to take a big shot. In time, he could become to this team what Sam Cassell was to the 2006 Clippers. Maybe you don't have to worry about Atlanta crashing the East party this year, but next year...it's on.

Shaq traded to Suns for Marion, Banks

Wow. That happened quickly.

Tuesday afternoon the WWL reported that the Miami Heat were in talks with the Phoenix Suns about a trade that would send (an allegedly shocked) Shaquille O'Neal to the desert. Five minutes ago I got a text from Kane confirming that the deal had been finalized. Indeed, the little "Breaking News" box at the bottom right corner of the ESPNEWS channel reads "Suns agree to trade for Shaquille O'Neal." Phoenix will be sending along Shawn Marion and Marcus Banks in return. The Daddy will fly to Phoenix tomorrow for a physical to complete the deal. First Van Gundy, now Shaq. Riles does not play.

So, what does it all mean? Well, on Phoenix's end, this is obviously a direct/panicked response to the Lakers' recent acquisition of Pau Gasol (who threw up a 24-12 in his LA debut in Joisey tonight). It's understandable - everyone in the West needs to seriously think about beefing up their frontline in the wake of that transaction. But let's face it, the Shaq of two years ago is probably gone, let alone any semblance of the man that once lived up to his self-proclaimed title of M.D.E. Shaq is a dinasour now. Phoenix has slowed their run-and-gun style down some, becoming a more orthodox team since last season, but even with that Shaq probably won't be able to keep up with their pace. More than likely, they're going to ask Shaq to become an almost solely defensive player. He's capable, but will he be willing to do that? In his tell-all classicThe Last Season, Phil Jackson quoted Shaq, in response to a question about whether he considered it more important that he play offense or defend and rebound, as saying, "I've always been an offensive player. I've never been a defensive player." The man has four championships, the last coming without Kobe, so he has zero left to prove. There's no reason or motivation for him to change his tune now.

And even if he did, do you really see him keeping up with a young, healthy, Andrew Bynum come playoff time, in a seven-game series? I thinks not. The fact of the matter is, Fisher+Kobe+Odom+Pau+healthy Bynum+Farmar+Sasha+Ariza+Walton+Radmanovic+Turiaf > Nash+Bell+Hill+Amare+old Shaq+Barbosa+Diaw+Skinner. The Lakers are loaded.

Then again, there's a small part of me that was initially terrified of the thought of Shaq coming back to the Western Conference. It's the same feeling I got when Mike returned for the last time, and it made me fear a Lakers-Wizards Finals matchup, as unlikely as it was that it would actually occur (and obviously, the Wiz didn't even make the playoffs in MJ's two years with them as a player). I wanted no part of Michael Jordan in that scenario. Why? Because no matter how old and washed up he was, he was still Michael Jordan. As long as he could play even a little bit, he was extemely dangerous to me. And in the back of my head, all the way down at the itty bitty bottom, I want no part of Shaquille O'Neal in late spring - for the same reason as with MJ, coupled with the no-need-to-be-recounted ending that was his Lake Show career. I'll probably have a couple nightmares in the coming months about Shaq haunting the Lakers at the Staples Center this May.

As for Miami, they still suck but they're in better shape now. They get out from under Shaq's ridiculous contract and add a very nice piece in Marion, although he fit in better in Phoenix's system than he will in Miami, or anywhere else for that matter. The Suns never appreciated how perfect Shawn Marion was to them, and vice versa. Shawn thought he wanted to be traded, but he probably didn't know it was gonna be to the worst team in the league. He's about to get a Ph.D. in Being Careful What You Wish For.

Mercury Morris Gets to Keep Yapping

When they completed the first 16-0 regular season ever by dispatching of these same New York Giants in the Meadowlands six weeks ago, forget his neighborhood, the New England Patriots had officially stepped foot on Mercury Morris' block. When they defeated the San Diego Chargers in Foxborough in the AFC Championship Game, they strolled up his walkway. When Tom Brady hit Randy Moss for the go-ahead touchdown with 2:42 remaining in the fourth quarter of Super Bowl XLII in Arizona Sunday night, they were standing on his porch (and every other cliche that has been used ad nausea in the leadup to the game.) 

Unfortunately, they were shot down by a sniper before they could enter through the front door. 

It was Giants 17, Patriots 14, and so I guess it's true that you can't win them all. It was analysed before the game that the key to any chance the Giants had of pulling off the upset centered on the ability of their front four to get past New England's stellar offensive line and to Brady, who's jersey is usually as clean at the end of the game as it is before it. They did, 5 sacks and many more hits on the game's best player. Just as important was Eli Manning, who contrary to the petrified look on his face as he ran onto the field for the drive of his life, who showed major poise and flair in answering Brady's testical-size by leading his team downfield for the game-winning drive and making one of the most memorable plays in football history. 

In a sequence that will certainly become a part of Super Bowl lore forever and ever and ever, Big Game MVP Eli (19 of 34, 255 yards, 2 touchdown passes and 1 pick) somehow managed to escape the grasps of three Patriots defenders and loft the ball to the middle of the field to wideout David Tyree, who jumped to the highest point and gripped it away from safety Rodney Harrison, clutching it against the side of his helmet with his right hand on the way down to the field. Unbelievable on both ends of the play. It was at this point that you began to believe that maybe the Giants were a team of destiny - and as it turns out they were. Shortly thereafter, Eli floated one to the corner of the endzone to an open Plaxico for the deciding touchdown. Good for the Giants. God bless them. 

As for the Patriots, winning the first 18 games of the season and then losing the Super Bowl, missing out on immortality by a mere 35 seconds, ranks right up there with the collapses of the '86 Sawx, '04 Yankees, and anybody else in terms of all-time most devastating defeats. As Tom Jackson pointed out on ESPN after the game, the fallout that will come from the Patriots organization in the wake of such a loss is unimaginable. How do you respond to something like this? Five months of the highest level of football ever played, rendered meaningless in a little more than two minutes? I feel for the players, I feel for the coaches, I feel for management, I feel for Robert Kraft. And if I'm a Patriots fan - which I am, although I'm of the bandwagon variety, so it's not gonna lay on me like it would a diehard, the only kind that exists in Boston - it's gonna be hard for me to really get myself back into football next season. Actually, the Pats could win the next three Super Bowl's and it still wouldn't fully ease the pain of losing the one that was played Sunday. This was a huge missed opportunity. 

But the worst part, for everybody involved? The '72 Dolphins. They live on. It seems we may never get rid of them.

Chris Carter, Screwed

It's not right, man. It's just not right.

Former NFL great Chris Carter, the eight-time Pro Bowler and four-time All-Pro receiver of the Eagles, Vikings, and Dolphins who ranks second all-time in career receptions and receiving touchdowns and fifth in total touchdowns, was denied in his initial shot at entry into the Pro Football Hall-of-Fame, it was announced today.

And I don't know anything anyome.

Gasol to Lakers for Brown

I don't know what's more shocking: The Spoiler To End All Spoilers for the fifth season of The Wire that I've watched multiple times in the past 45 minutes, or the fact that the Lakers have just acquired an All-Star caliber big man from Memphis for a guy that was lustily booed by his home crowd two weeks ago. I'm gonna go with the latter, since the former had already been hinted at. It was almost a state of denial on my part that I wasn't fully expecting it. But I digress.

In a colossal move that seemingly came from out of nowhere, the Memphis Grizzlies have traded F/C Pau Gasol and a 2010 second-round pick to the Lakers for C Kwame Brown, rookie G Javaris Crittenton, G Aaron McKie and the rights to Gasol's younger brother, C Marc, and first-round picks in 2008 and 2010. McKie was not on an NBA roster, but his rights were still owned by Los Angeles, the team he had most recently played for. He was signed earlier today today to make the deal's salary cap considerations feasible. The Grizz get cap relief - the remainder of Kwame's contract, $9.1 million this season, comes off the books after the season. The Lakers get the inside track on the 2008 title, as far as I see it - Gasol is a gifted post scorer that will fill in quite nicely in Andrew Bynum's absence. Suddenly, the next six weeks don't look so bleak for Lakers fans. And come playoff time, the Lakers will have a supremely talented, mammoth frontline - 6-10 Lamar Odom, 7-0 Pau Gasol, 7-0 Andrew Bynum - that no one is going to be able to match up with. No one. This past summer, Kobe was bitching about not having enough support. Nine month's later, he's on potentialy the most formidable team in basketball. Go figure.

That sound you hear? It's the rest of the NBA, trembling in their boots.

All-Star Love, All-Star Snubs

Blazers guard Brandon Roy was named a Western Conference All-Star reserve today, but were others more deserving?

I slept through TNT's All-Star Reserves announcement pre-game show earlier today, but I've awaken to see the list. And it goes a little something like thiiiiis:

Eastern Conference

G Chauncey Billups
G Richard Hamilton
G Joe Johnson
F Paul Pierce
F Caron Butler
F Chris Bosh
F Antawn Jamison

Western Conference

G Chris Paul
G Steve Nash
G Brandon Roy
F Dirk Nowitzki
F Carlos Boozer
F David West
C Amare Stoudemire

I have no problems with the East, really, not enough to write about, but I think some bones can be picked in the West. Obviously, there are some guys that are going to be snubbed every year. Too many deserving players, too few spots. Such is the NBA All-Star roster. And so apologies to the always underrated Shawn Marion (15.7 points, 9.9 rebounds, 1.9 steals, 1.5 blocks, 52 percent from the field). The game will not be the same without you. And don't get discouraged Josh Howard ( 20.9 points, 7.5 rebounds, 48 percent shooting) - just keep getting better. It's not you, it's David West (19.6 points, 9.4 rebounds, 2.4 assists, 48 percent): the Hornets deseved two All-Stars for the year they're having, and the coaches obliged. I don't completely agree with West's inclusion, but I definitely understand.

The real issue, at least for me, arises at the point Brandon Roy makes the squad over Deron Williams or Baron Davis. Their records (26-19 for Roy and Portland, 28-18 for Deron and Utah, 28-19 for Diddy and G-State) are similar, and Williams (19.1 points, 9.5 assists, 52 percent overall, 39 from 3) and Davis (22.3 points, 4.9 boards, 8.1 dimes, 2.5 steals, hasn't missed a game, an absolute career year, he's finally putting it all together) have had better individual years. Roy is an excellent young player, and he's the best player on the most surprising team in the league. But his statistics don't match the hype he receives, just yet - 19.3 points, 4.5 boards, 5.6 assists. Portland is like a deep, well-rounded, whole-greater-than-sum-of-parts, really good college-like team (in structure) with an excellent coach that plays hard every night. Roy is a very big piece of the puzzle in Portland, not the puzzle itself. Doubt anyone would argue against that. I mean, congratulations anyway, B-Roy, I respect your game and professional attitude as much as the next person. But I'm just saying.

The Wire, ep. 55: "React Quotes" ("Just 'cause they're in the streets doesn't mean they lack opinions ." - Haynes)

***SPOILER ALERT***

It's only recently that I've come to accept The Wire as what it is: fiction. The first time I watched the show, one of the things that struck me was how real it seemed, and I took that thought and ran with it. It wasn't until I read a year-old H&H post by Beth Shoals, about the mythical exploits of Omar and how he undermined the show's authenticity, did I begin to reconsider.

Is Omar unrealistic? Does he take away from the show's trademark actuality? I googled it. Scoured H&H. Read some Matthew Yglesias. Signed up to the official HBO message board. Gathered information from my peers and then headed straight to the source, searching for any and every David Simon interview I could find. Even bought a book, The Wire: Truth Be Told (a must-have for any true fan of the show, although it only covers the first two seasons). I wanted answers. For the record, I don't see Omar's very nature - gay, doesn't curse, etc. - as being fanciful as much as I do the situations he's often placed in: He robs the fiercest and largest drug clans in the land, they respond in kind, and the back and forth ensues, he hunting them as fiercely as they hunt he. And despite being severely outnumbered, he remains above ground. Notoriously well-known, he's played a major part in multiple unsolved murders, with the most talented detectives The Wire has to offer well-aware of his involvement. Yet by some constituating circumstance or another, he remains uncarcerated. Seems unlikely.

I've come to two conclusions. One, I never should've taken the show so literally. It is not a docudrama, it has actors and scripts and manually constructed sets, no different than Desperate Housewives in that respect. The little details - like the slang the dealers use, the innerworkings of a drug organization, the police procedurals, and the class and newsroom scenes, for instance - that only city insiders like Simon and Ed Burns could capture, as well as the fact that it's a show about the grittiest parts of Baltimore filmed in the grittiest part of Baltimore, give the show it's veneer of substinence. But as Simon points out in Truth Be Told, while some of the events took place, and others were rumored to have taken place, many did not take place. Oftentimes, the plotlines don't serve as mirrors of real life occurances, but rather, as symbols of a larger truth or point that the show is trying to make.

Secondly, on a program about institutions and their propensity to contaminate and betrayal the individuals that belong to them (think about it, it's all over the show). Omar is The Wire's lone independent, the one character that answers to no one but himself. He is his own establishment, and thus he can abide by his own rules and own code, and more importantly, he is not doomed, as most of his adversaries on his side of the law have proven to be.

With that insight in mind, when Omar pulls off some Marvel shit like he did in 55, I'm able to carry it a little better. Omar and Big Donnie set up outside Monk's condo. He's moving with muscle, so Butchie's avengers wait patiently, for the exact moment they think he's alone. Little do they know, they're being set up: Monk is being used as bait. When they finally make their move, busting in with guns drawn, Chris, Snoop, Mike, and O-Dog are inside waiting. Violence ensues, O-Dog catching one in the leg, Big Donnie meeting his end with one through the forehead. And so once again, Omar is all by his lonesome, crawling away from bullets, and now his clip is empty. So what does he do?

He bursts through a nearby window and off of a balcony at least five stories off the ground, a dark figure flying down from the sky at night, a la Batman, only with a trenchcoat instead of a cape.

Chris, Snoop, and Mike run over to the balcony and look down, but Omar is gone. Needless to say, unless you're Peter Parker, you don't just up and walk away from a leap like that. Well, unless you're Omar, I guess.

It's almost as if the cynical masterminds behind The Wire took the mumblings about Omar being an implausible character and decided to turn it into a little joke by having him channel his inner-Spiderman. Simon certainly heard the complaints, even going as far as to show up on the comment board for the aforementioned Shoals piece and shed some insight on/discount the notion that someone in Omar's line of work would eventually end up dead or in jail (not that convincing, to be perfectly honest with you). Simon didn't pen the episode, but as always he had a hand in the story. More than likely, he's somewhere laughing his ass off right now.

Alright, the Big Finish:

Marlo meets with Vondas to finalize their business agreement. Vondas gives the newborn king a cell phone and tells him never to talk business on it, but also shows him a little trick. Those Greeks are clever. Marlo later gives a delighted Levy the number, who explains to Herc that Stanfield using a cellphone in this day and age will likely lead to a big payday for the firm, in the form of a major wiretap case. "Joe gave him to us just in time," he says. What an asshole. Later, a still spited Herc sneaks into the office and copies down the number. He gets it to Carv ("When you put the bracelets on that bitch, remind him again of my fuckin' camera"), who in turn hands it over to Lester; Chris says bye to his two kids and tells his girl he's gonna be away on business for a couple of weeks. Translation: Omar's comin'. This was clearly an attempt by the writers to humanize Chris, but it just doesn't work. He's been too coldblooded. He's not human; Dukie gets beat up by Kenard and Spider and decides enough is enough, so Mike takes him to Cutty. Well, Dukie can't fight. He and Cutty converse about life, with Dukie asking how to "get from here to the rest of the world," but Cutty is clueless himself. For plan two, Duke enlists Mike to teach him how to shoot (not pool), but that doesn't work out either. He's just not meant for the streets. Unfortunately, he's trapped there; McNulty meets with Templeton and Gutierrez to help them juice up their story on the homeless "murders"; Daniels meets with Carcetti to request additional manpower, but only gets overtime for two detectives, causing McNulty and Lester to come up with another plan. Templeton unknowlingly assists them, staging a phonecall from the "serial killer." A shocked McNulty is called into a meeting with the paper, where Templeton has detailed notes of the "conversation" and the number of the payphone he used to concoct his tale. Not to be outdone, McNulty says the Homicide Unit received a similar call from someone that matches Scott's description. Put it this way: between Templeton and McNulty, there was a lot of B.S. being spouted in that scene. McNulty uses this development to get Freamon his wiretap. It's actually meant for Homicide to monitor the killer, but Lester rigs it such that while they think they're up on the killer's cellphone, he's really eavesdropping on Marlo back at the detail office. At the close of the hour, he picks up on a call, but hears nothing but static. "What the ...?" he says to himself; Beadie is ready to put Jimmy out; Narese manages to convine Clay to play team ball; and Royce backs Clay at a support rally.

Move along now, children.

(Oh, and Bubs passes his HIV test. Forgot about that.)

Super Bowl XLII Preview

I want no hitting below the belt, no cameras on the sidelines stealing defensive signals, and no Eli Manning jokes (he's earned a break). Let's get it on!

Giants (13-6) vs. Pats (18-0) II: The Tale of the Tape

OFFENSE:

Quarterback

It has been a signature year for Patriots signal-caller Tom Brady. During the regular season, he threw a record 50 touchdown passes (versus only 8 interceptions), led his club to the first 16-0 mark in league history, earned his first NFL MVP award, and was named Associated Press Athlete of the Year.

In the divisional round against the Jaguars, he completed 26 of 28 passes, or 92.9 percent, the highest rate in playoff history. He has a career 14-2 record in the postseason, including 3-0 in the Super Bowl, with two MVP trophies. No quarterback is more polished mechanically, no quarterback is more accurate, no quarterback is cooler under pressure, and no quarterback has banged more hot actresses/supermodels. Tom Brady is one for the ages, a man of his times.

Manning stands behind center for the Giants, and he is playing the best ball of his career. After a mediocre regular season (23 touchdowns, 20 interceptions, 3300 yards, 56 % completion percentage), Manning has been nearly perfect (for him) during the playoffs: 53 of 85 (62%), 602 yards, 4 touchdowns, 0 interceptions, three consecutive road victories. Because of his lineage and his status as the the No. 1 overall pick in the 2004 draft, many envisioned Manning as a future franchise quarterback, and his failure to live up to those expectations have made him the source of criticism. As he has proved this month, however, Manning is much better suited for the role of mistake-free game-manager than the role of Peyton - hopefully for him, everyone will adjust their expectations accordingly, and lay off the guy's ass a bit.

Advantage: Brady Say what you want about Eli, but he's a former No. 1 pick that made it to the Big Game by his fourth year. That's saying something. Of course, Tom Brady is the best quarterback to ever play the game - I'll explain in greater detail if/when he wins his fourth ring February 3rd.

Skilled Positions

Manning has the Ahmed Bradshaw/Brandon Jacobs tandem at halfback, with the talented Plaxico Burress, veteran Amani Toomer, and rookie Steve Smith, who is getting time in place of the injured Sinorice Moss, at receiver. They are an effective bunch; Jacobs and Bradshaw give the Giants a thunder/lightning type backfield, Burress is a huge end-zone target, Toomer isn't the player he used to be but is still more than serviceable, and Smith had a couple of big catches against Green Bay last week.

Brady throws passes to wideout Randy Moss, who broke Jerry Rice's league record by catching 23 touchdown passes during the regular season and is unstoppable when single-covered. Slot receiver Wes Welker led the league in receptions with 112 and serves a Brady's security blanket; he was deserving of a Pro Bowl selection this year. Opposite Moss is Donte' Stallworth, who goes almost unnoticed but is there when you need him. Jabar Gaffney makes the occasional appearance as well.

Jacksonville double-downed on Moss, holding him to only a single catch for 14 yards. San Diego tried the same trick, and with the same results, Moss once again recording only a single reception, this time for 18 yards. In both instances, running back Laurence Maroney figured prominently - a combined 244 rushing yards on 47 carries. Used sparingly most of the year, he is fresh and has gained 100 or more yards in 4 of the last 5 games.

And what more can you say about Kevin Faulk? He's Robert Horry in shoulder pads.

Advantage: Patriots

Offensive Line

Suffice it to say that New England has one of the best O-lines in the league - they allowed only 21 sacks this season, fifth in the league, and they've helped Maroney spring for some big games as of late. They remain unheralded after all these years, but they're as solid as ever. Now, enough about offensive lineman.

Patriots

DEFENSE:

Front Seven

The Patriots typically operate out of a 3-4 base formation. DE Richard Seymour and NT Vince Wilfork are amongst the best at their positions. At the next level, the Pats employ and aged but crafty and very solid linebacking core: Mike Vrabel, who was named to his first Pro Bowl this year, and Tedy Bruschi are smart and big-game experienced. Seau, the future Hall-of-Famer, is the same. The youngest of the bunch, 30 year-old Adalius Thomas, brings needed athleticism in his first year with the club.

Only one team recorded more than the Patriots 47 sacks this season, and it was the Giants, who got to the quarterback 53 times and specialize in the pass rush. Pro Bowl DE Osi Umenyiora led the team with 13, followed by Justin Tuck with 10 and future-Cantoner Michael Strahan with 9. Linebackers Antonio Pierce, Kiwika Mitchell, and Reggie Torbor are not spectacular, but they get the job done.

Advantage: Patriots

Secondary

New York's defensive backfield, highlighted by corner Sam Madison, has intercepted five passes this postseason, but as far as I'm concerned, they're just a'ight. New England's unit features All-Pro CB Asante Samuel, and dirty - oops, I mean cagey - safety Rodney Harrison. They are deep, tried and proven.

Advantage: Patriots

SPECIAL TEAMS:

New England finished 5th and 11th in the league, respectively, in kick return and punt return average. New York finished 7th and 27th. The Pats were 12th in the league against the kick return and 2nd against the punt, as opposed to 18th and 5th for the Giants. NE kicker Stephen Gostkowski made 21 of 24 field goals during the season, NY's Lawrence 23 of 27. That's a wash, statistically, but we all saw how shaky Tynes looked last week.

Advantage: Patriots

COACHING:

Tom Coughlin deserves credit for what he's done as a lame-duck this year, but come on - Belichick is the best since Lombardi.

HEAD-TO-HEAD:

The Patriots defeated an extremely game Giants team in Week 17, 38-35. New England was playing for 16-0 - the G-Men, who's seeding was already locked, were playing for the pride of the league and their own place in history: the team that defeated the evil Patriots in the last game of the regular season to stop them from going undefeated. They actually led, 28-16, early in the third quarter, but as always, the Patriots refused to lose.

KEY MATCHUP:

Giants defensive line versus Patriots offensive line. Something's gotta give. If the Giants can get to Brady, they've got a chance.

THE PICK:

The Giants have been playing extremely well, but in the Coughlin era, they've come to be known as a Jekyl and Hyde team. Would it surprise anyone if the Giants, after playing New England so valiantly in a game they could've taken as meaningless, were to lay an egg in the most important game of them all?

Besides, the Patriots have been on a mission all season long, they've won big and small, and they've responded with heart and resiliency in every conceivable instance of adversity. Does anyone really think they're going to lose now? This team needs a defining game for everyone to remember their remarkable season by. This is it.

Patriots 42, Giants 10

The Wire, ep. 54: "Transitions" ("Buyers market out there." - Templeton)

In cae you didn't know - and if you saw his HBO promo, you should - with Marlo Stanfield, it's all about the crown.

That means you don't get up in his face over stolen candy unless you wear a real badge. That means you don't - you cannot - sell drugs on his side of Baltimore unless you're on his package. That means you don't allegedly call him a dicksuck. You definitely don't steal from him. And you can't own the line to the Greeks.

Because if you own the line to the Greeks, you own the connect, and if own the connect, you run the Co-Op, and if you run the Co-Op, all of the other kingpins depend on you for their product. Which in effect makes you the Boss of all Bosses in Bodymore. Marlo has another sitdown with Vondas at the little Greek spot, this time with The Greek himself in attendance. Marlo's got the cleaned-up cash Joe hooked him up with, but Vondas finally cuts through the allegorical and explains to the boy that it's not about the money; in Joe they already have a man that they trust, and they only want to deal with one man. Marlo says he's only looking for an insurance policy, in the event that a robbery like the one that occured last year should happen again.

"Something that covers me, covers you," he says.

"And covers Joe," Vondas adds.

Marlo rolls his eyes. But The Greek thinks the kid has a point.

"You're right," he says. "These are volatile times. It is not unreasonable to carry insurance. Who can say what tomorrow will show us?"

He sends the boy on his way, ensuring Vondas that no matter how many times they deny him, he will continue to return. He has shown as much.

"But he is not Joe," Vondas says.

"He is not Joe," The Greek agrees with a slight smile.

On the HBO and Heavenandhere boards, people are suggesting that in this scene, the Greeks were hinting to Marlo that if he were to take out Joe, they would be willing to work with him. On first view, I did not pick up on this, and frankly, I'm still not sold. It's certainly not definitive. Although I could see how the aforementioned smirk The Greek gave could be indicative of his belief that Marlo is a dense thug whom he could take advantage of, unlike Joe, as one H&H commentator offered, overall I think it was highly ambiguous.

Anyways, Joe purchases flower arrangements out of respect for the late Butchie (from the same guy Bodie went to for D's funeral in Season 2) and, in anticipation of Omar, tells Slim he'll be taking himself out of action for a while after the next Co-Op meeting. He rightfully suspects Cheese as the man that made it happen, but he needs more than words to go on before he makes a move against blood. In the meantime, he'll leave Cheese to watch the shop and Slim to watch Cheese.

Omar returns in full work uniform: do-rag, trenchcoat, and teflon. He arrives at Big Donnie's, and Big Guy (that's what they call him on the HBO site) gives him Marlo's message ("Tell Omar he put his hands in the wrong pocket"). Donnie informs him that they didn't let Butchie go easily (Omar: "Sweet Jesus I'm gonna work them"), and that he wants in on the revenge tip. Then he tosses Omar a shotgun.

Later, Omar ambushes Slim at his apartment and demands Joe's whereabouts. Slim stands tall at gunpoint, and is able to convince Omar that Joe's hands are clean. O spares Slim and begins stalking the Stanfield crew with Donnie, who tells him that Marlo and Chris have been switching up where they lay their lands at night. Omar says he's going to go after the man's people first, starting with Monk. "You hurt enough of them, that snake's gonna stick his head up out that hole," he promises.

At the Co-Op meeting, Hungry Man calls out Cheese for infringing on his territory. The two have a brief verbal exchange before Joe puts his nephew in place, reminding him that he's not a "charter member" and assuring Hungry that his sister's son will adhere to the boundaries. The meeting is adjourned, and an embarrased Cheese storms out of the room like a little five-year old beeyotch. Marlo, constant thinker and schemer, takes heed. The next day Joe takes him to see Levy, lawyer to the kingpins. In a funny moment, Marlo recognizes Herc in Levy's office and aks him, sarcastically, "Hey, you ever find that camera?" then chuckles when Herc informs him that it cost him his job. What a jerk.

Chris leads Cheese to a garage, where Snoop holds a tied up Hungry hostage, a little gift from Marlo. But it comes with strings attatched.

"Get a gift, give a gift," Chris explains. "You know how that go."

At the close of the hour, Joe is packed and ready to make his getaway when Cheese comes strolling through the house. Cheese questions why Joe would still be shacked up in this little house, with all the money he's got. Joe points to a picture of Cheese's great-grandfather, the first black man to own a house in Johnson's square.

"That means something," he says. "Something you young'ns lost."

Cheese is unmoved, and tells Joe he'll see him outside when he's ready to go. But just as Joe grabs his cane to get up, Marlo walks in through the backdoor.

"No need for that," he says.

Joe knows what this is, and it's not a going away party.

"My nephew?" he asks.

Marlo nods affirmatively.

"The boy was always a disappointment," Joe says. "But I treated you like a son."

"I wasn't made to play the son," Marlo responds.

Joe reminds him that he still needs the good dope he supplies, but Marlo informs that the Greeks got that covered. Joe takes a second to digest this, then makes one final Proposition.

"I just step out the way," he tenders. "You'll never hear from me again. I'll just disappear."

"Joe, you'll be up into mischief in no time," Marlo says. "Truth is, you wouldn't be able to change up anymore than me."

He tells Joe to close his eyes. "It won't hurt none," he vows, but Joe shakes his head as he comes to the realization that this is it. "Joe, relax," he says. "Breathe easy." Chris, who has walked in through the front, pushes the gun to the back of Joe's head. When Marlo nods, the gun blasts, and the camera pans to Stanfield's sedated face. The music starts and the credits roll.

That was an extremely tense scene. I already knew what it entailed, but it still had me shook up. Joe was a likable guy. Of course, he was also a mischevious one. You spend all that time being sneaky, and eventually, it's going to catch up to you.

Obviously, this displays how disloyal Marlo is, but that's not really surprising; it's doubtful there's anything that he would allow to come between him and the throne. It also reminded me of something Shaq (yes, Shaq - I've managed to make him relevant to this post) once said, about five years ago, after Kobe dropped 55 (42 in the first half) on MJ in their last ever meeting: "In every good karate flick, in order for the student to become the man, he has to kill the teacher." I've never watched a karate movie before; I just always took Shaq's word for it. Anyways, that's what's happened here: Joe took Marlo under his wing and showed him the ropes. Marlo accumulated the knowledge, then took out the man that gave it to him to become the master. It goes like that.

Elsewhere, Lester teams up with McNulty in locating and manipulating more dead homeless people; Burrell "retires" from his position as police commissioner in favor of Rawls, who's only keeping the seat warm for new deputy-ops Daniels; the little boy Kima retrieved from the home of the triple murder in 52 is not yet ready to relive the trauma of the event. She calls Cheryl, who agrees to let her visit Elijah. Perhaps Kima's thinking about adopting that poor child, and is trying to gain experience with children; Carv may have to give up Collichio, the mo-hawked cop that went crazy when Kenard played a trick on him involving dog crap; Michael won't pay his mother to be his mom; Templeton interviews with the Washington Post; Clay Davis gets grand juried, and it doesn't go well for him. Nor does it go well for the good people at The Sun, who learn of the news like everyone else: by watching it on television.

I've already seen 5, 6, and 7, which means that the next three weeks are going to feel more like three years to me. Hurry up, 58.

Andrew Bynum Withdrawl

There's a reason Lakers Nation moaned when Bynumite went down with a knee injury Sunday night, the timetable for his return estimated at 8 weeks. His name is Kwame Brown.

Hey, Kwame is what he is: a big body and a good low-post defender. But that's it. I repeat: That's it. He has no offensive skill to speak of and the worst hands in the league. He probably shouldn't be starting in the NBA. Nothing personal.

Of course, now he's been nudged back into the spotlight after spending the beginning of the season as an afterthought. And his flaws are under the microscope. A big microscope in the wake of Bynum.

Drew was averaging 13 points, 10 rebounds, and 2 blocks on 64 percent shooting before he went down, but that doesn't tell the whole story. Bynum finishes everything around the basket with dunks, he's got the softest hands in the league, and nobody completes more alley-oops (there are few moves in basketball more unstoppable than a lob to Andrew Bynum). His combination of size, length, and athleticism is surpassed only by Dwight Howard, he's ferociously aggressive, and he's got a developing low-post game. For the first time since Shaq left, the Lakers have a big man that forces the defense to react when he catches the ball on the block. He's borderline unstoppable.

In other words, he's the anti-Kwame Brown. The Lakers should never throw Kwame the ball. When they do, defenses react with glee. During a memorable eight-minute stretch at the start of the second half against Phoenix last night, Kwame missed a dunk and a layup and committed four of his seven turnovers, as his home crowd booed him mercilessly. (He only played 25 minutes - how does a center turn the ball over seven times in only 25 minutes? That may be unprecedented.) A comedy of errors. Terrible, just terrible. Sad, even. It sucks to be Kwame Brown right now. He's going to be on a very short leash (maybe no leash at all) with the L.A. (un)faithful at every home game he plays for the next two months, and Barkley's going to be laughing at him every Thursday on TNT. I feel sorry for the guy. I bet he can't wait for Andrew to come back, either.

Of course, Bynum's injury did more to hurt this team than just guarantee Kwame more playing time. Bynum had entrenched himself pretty firmly into the No. 2 spot in the Lakers' heirarchy, meaning that Lamar Odom had settled nicely into the No. 3 role that better suits him. For all of his considerable gifts, Odom was never going to live up to being the Pippen to Kobe's MJ, and with Bynum's explosion to stardom, he no longer has to worry about that. I had always lamented Odom's inability to become the player we were hoping for when he arrived here four years ago, but this year I had almost forgotten about him, which is probably the way he likes it. In years past, Odom has played his very best basketball when Kobe was out, but other than that, he just plays the same. His temporary move back upward in the Lake Show pecking order isn't going to urge him to step it up any (although he did have a strong 19 and 19 last night).

So once again, it all falls on Kobe. I'm a diehard Lakers fan, so my heart tells me he's going to spring for 40 a game over the next 30 games or so, keep the Lakers near the top of the standings, and solidify his first MVP in the process. My head looks at the schedule and sees that Denver, San Antonio, Dallas, a Cleveland team that's coming together, and Detroit are five of their next six opponents, and that 11 of their next 14 before the All-Star Break are on the road (including 9 in a row). I see a team that may be on the verge of losing it's balance.

But you know what? Screw it. We still got Kobe, Farmar and Sasha bring punch off the bench, and Fish is 10-times more reliable than Smush Parker was, making the current Lakers team, sans Bynum, a deeper, steadier version of the 2006 team than won 45 games and nearly upset a 54-win Phoenix team in the first round. They're going to be fine. I'm going to repeat that last sentence to myself 1,000 times every night before I go to sleep, until I really believe it.

The Wire, ep. 53: "Not for Attribution" ("They're dead where it doesn't count." - Fletcher)

Marlo Stanfield is the busiest gangster on television right now. Loathsomely ambitious is the best way to describe him. In E-P-53, he goes to Joe with perhaps the best problem a person can have: He's got too much money. Needs help laundering it. Joe sets him up with a shady, Clay Davis-esque pastor and creates an account for him at a bank in the Antilles, $400,000 in the Stanfield name.

"How I even know it's there?" Marlo asks at Joe's front shop.

"You check it online, anytime you like," Joe says, but Marlo don't trust it if he can't hold touch it, so Joe sets him up with a passport to go check it out for himself. "Ain't easy civilizing this motherfucker," Joe quips to Slim.

He's also got a little gift for Vondas, briefcase full of cash, but the man rejects it. It's street money, dirty money, and Vondas doesn't like the way it smells, so young'n takes it to Joe to get it cleaned up. Marlo may have a lot of heart, he may have great instincts, he may be the perfect person to control the drug trade in a place like West Baltimore, but he's a pup when it comes to the finer points of being a full-fledged criminal. He's learning, though. Last season centered on education, but this year, Marlo's getting schooled.

Of course, there are still some things he can't be taught, such as letting matters rest. Despite Joe's advice to leave it be, Marlo remains hell-bent on achieving vengeance for Omar's last caper, and he tells Joe and Cheese to get word out to the other offended Co-Operators that he's putting 50 Big Ones on anyone close to The Terror. "His sister, his me-maw, some faggy he be with," Snoop explains in her own inimitable way. "All that shit count, you hear me?"

For his part, Joe isn't going to give up anything on Omar.

"Omar been gone," he tells Cheese. "Took a lot of bad history with him, too. Why in the hell would I want that motherfucker back?" Of course, there's a weak link in every operation, and every family, and in this case it's Cheese, who goes behind his uncle's back and tells Chris about some blind cat with a joint over on Collinton, eastside of the street. When Partlow cashes him out, there's no turning back.

Snoop steps into Butchie's bar to peep the scenario. Butchie and one of the guys he sent to aid Omar in jail last season are inside, as well as a third man (probably an employee), who dismisses Snoop as "a little girl." Five seconds later, the "little girl" has dislodged a bullet into his brain, Chris shoots Butchie's man in the leg, and two guns are drawn on a man who can't see (very courageous).

"Cash is in the register," he says.

"Fuck the register, old man," Snoop confirms. This ain't no robbery.

They tie Butchie up in the back of the joint and attempt to torture him into unveiling Omar's whereabouts, as the guy with the hole in his leg sits incapacitated. Snoop shoots Butchie twice in the kneecap, Chris smashes a beer bottle over his head, but he still won't give up his boy, so Partlow puts one in his head. Then he walks over to the survivor and tells him that when word gets back to the man, be sure that all of the gory details are included. On the way to the truck, Snoop points out that they still have nothing on Omar, and now he's going to be coming at them. Chris tells her that they're going to have to switch up; Marlo will have to move inside, and they'll have to live on the run. Snoop chastises the plan, but Chris quickly puts her in check.

"Marlo wants Omar," he says. "What else you need to know?"

At the close of the hour, Omar, in retirement with Renaldo in Puerto Rico, catches wind of Butch's death through his lover's cousin and a tear begins to roll down his suddenly angry face. The giant has been awakened.

Bug has a day off from school, so Mike takes he and Dukie on a little trip to Six Flags. In case anyone forgot, they're still kids, they still like to have fun, and these are the kinds of things kids do for leisure. When they return, however, Monk is waiting at Mike's corner, and he berates the boy for his daylong absence.

"Chris already heard about this shit," he says to Mike's chagrin. "Nice dolphin, nigga," he tells Duke for good measure, complimenting him on the stuffed animal he's holding under his arm. That single line is the greatest contribution Monk has made to this show. Add that to the long list of classic Wire quotes.

Elsewhere, McNulty continues his manipulation of dead vagrants. He contacts Alma Gutierrez of The Sun, but the story only makes the backpages of the paper. Bunk brings in Lester, hoping that maybe he can talk some sense into Jimmy since he can't seem to do it, but much to his chagrin, Lester instead gives Jimmy ideas on how to improve upon his plan. Lester suggests that they sensationalize the story, give the "killer" some kind of fucked up fantasy. "We need to give your killer a name," he says. "We need to kill again," Jimmy responds. He's got an ally in Lester, they both want Marlo; Carcetti's plan to supplant Burrell with Daniels hits print, and now Daniels and Marla worry that Burrell will air some of Cedric's dirty laundry in an effort to keep his job; Ashy Larry returns as Senator Davis' crooked driver and, after taking a peppering from Pearlman during a mock trial, he cries to his boss that they're going to jail. Clay goes to Carcetti and offers to help him in his move against Burrell in exchange for help with his impending grand jury trial, but he's being hung out to dry; Alma's story on last week's home invasion triple-murder gets only a small space of the front page; and The Sun is in the process of downsizing.

The tension builds.

Putting Yao in Perspective

Don't know if you guys caught th highlights of UNC Asheville big man of mythic proportions Kenny George after the Bulldogs took on the Tar Heels Wednesday night, but if you haven't, you need to contact your local YouTube. He goes 7-7, 360, size 28 shoe - meaning that they should probably change the saying from "hung like a horse" to "hung like Kenny George." But that's besides the point.

Gheorghe Muresan, Shawn Bradley, and Manute Bol were tall and thin, stick figures, palm trees. They were ectomorph's. (Muresan was actually listed at 310, but didn't look it.) George doesn't carry his weight as well - he's probably more of an endomorph. And he makes Bradley seem almost nimble and explosive by comparison - well, maybe that's an overstatement, but you get my point: he's not a good athlete. We saw that Wednesday, when 6-9 Tyler Hansbrough faced him up, drove right at him, and flushed in his grill (get used to images like those). He'll play at the next level because you can't teach 7-7, and block a lot of shots (he's leading the nation at 5.3 a game this year), but more than likely, he'll be remembered as a freakishly large man that got dunked on a lot. Nothing personal.

Guys that size simply have a ceiling on their potential because, naturally, they're so sluggish and uncoordinated. It's when you see guys like George that you are reminded just how unique Yao Ming is. His agility and skill level for a man his size is simply unprecedented. Rik Smits was a very good player, and Ralph Sampson would've been a Hall-of-Famer if it weren't for his bad knees, but they were both 7-4. Anyone 7-5 or over? Bol was a terrific shotblocker (second in NBA history on a per-game average at 3.3 a night, trailing only Mark Eaton's 3.5) and a funny guy, that's about it. Muresan, another gregarious guy, went for a 15-10 in '95-96, but only played 6 seasons. Bradley was the laughingstock of the league during his career. He didn't have as much personality as those other two, not as much charm, so people were and continue to be mean to him. Just search his name on YouTube. You'll see titles like "Top 10 Dunks on Shawn Bradley," "Shawn Bradley_NBA Bitch," and "Please Dunk On Me Im Shawn Bradley" by DJ Spic 2 My Lu. He got punched in the face bloody by Walt Williams and bodyslammed by someone named Mark Davis. Nobody had more guys go out of their way to dunk on him than Bradley. He was the most posterized player ever. A humiliating, embarrassing career. Unfortunate because he was such a nice guy, but true.

Yao doesn't have those same problems, really. He's been dunked on before, and we'll always remember the time Nasty Nate Robinson blocked his shot, but moments like that are few and far between, more indicative of his early struggles. He's not really a gamechanger or consistently dominant force, he doesn't rebound or block enough shots, and he's had some fatigue/injury problems. But at the end of the day, he's a 22-10 guy, plus two blocks, a gifted big man with a very strong low-post game, a sweet stroke, and criminally underutilized passing skills. Maybe he's not the player it looked like he was going to become after his rookie year, but he's still extremely impressive. Yao isn't necessarily a transcendent player, period, but he is a transcendent player when you take a second to consider his predecessors.

The Wire, ep. 52: "Unconfirmed Reports" ("This ain't Aruba, bitch." - Bunk)

***SPOILER ALERT*** to those of you who don't have On Demand.

Jimmy McNulty. Derranged son of a bitch.

He and his vanity are back, and fuck rogue, McNulty's latest ego-stroking act is just plain disturbing. He takes a call on a case but he has a flat tire, so he has to take the bus to the scene. An older woman found dead in her bed, with a pillow over her head (that rhymed). At the morgue, as he waits for word on his body (the doctor has his hands full, not surprisingly), he learns of some information that would spark the most unsettling moment in the show's history. Some guy O.D.'d and ended up firmly entrenching himself between the bathtub and the toilet, and the medics have to pry him loose using his neck as leverage. The effects look like strangulation, but on a fresh body no one can tell it's postmortem.

At the close of the hour, he and Bunk are summoned to a D.O.A. (Dead on arrival). Some homeless guy. The officer at the scene tells them that the crime lab won't arrive for 2-3 hours, and a lightbulb pops up over McNulty's head. It hits him. He sends the officer on his way; he and Bunk will handle things from there. Next he heads back out to the car for a swig of whiskey, preparing himself for what he's about to do. When he returns, he begins manipulating the scene, knocking a hole in a nearby wall and using a piece of it to smear what will look like a white stain on the back of the corpse's pants.

"What the fuck are you doing?" a bewildered Bunk asks.

Then, he kneels down and makes the sign of the cross (because Lord knows he's going to hell for this shit) and, much to Bunk's horror and chagrin, proceeds to wrap his hands around the man's neck and press down.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," a terrified Bunk moans. "You sick fuck."

"There's a serial killer in Baltimore. He prays upon the weakest among us," Jimmy explains as he takes a shot of alcohol. "He needs to be caught."

"I'm out of here," Bunk says before fleeing the scene. "I don't want no part of this."

Finally, McNulty props the body into a, um, compromising position, takes a step back from his work, and takes another drink. This easily makes any other stunt he's ever pulled seem Micky Mouse-y by comparison. He's finally lost it.

Elsewhere, Lester appears to be over chasing Marlo; he tells Sydnor that the Clay Davis case is the kind that defines careers. But that doesn't stop him from staking out and getting a scope on Monk, Snoop, and O-Dog as they prepare to hit up some guy named Webster's corner; he refused to get on their package. With the heat from the knockas having cooled off considerably, Marlo is looking to take care of some unfinished business.

He orders three moves:

1. The call on the aforementioned corner, highlighted by a reference to "Boyz n the Hood" and Snoop's marksmanship.

2. A move on a cat named Junebug, for "talkin' that shit," as Marlo put. Chris, Snoop, and Michael show up to the job early to peep the landscape. This hit will be of the home invasion variety. While they wait, Mike gets inquisitive.

"Why we doin' Junebug anyway?" he asks.

"Heard he called Marlo a dicksuck," Snoop responds. "Talkin' shit like that."

"You heard?" Mike continues to interrogate. "You ain't sure?"

"People say he said it," Snoop replies, a bit impatient.

Chris rationalizes that it doesn't matter if he said it, but that people think he said it. Can't let that slide. And it's at this point that Michael displays the kind of logic and levelheadedness that his superiors sorely lack, reasoning how immature it is of Marlo to have this man killed on account of some silly namecalling. (Seriously, they teach you how to deal with stuff like this in elementary school.)

"Why this boy gotta get dead just for talkin' shit?" Mike asks.

"Because he got a big motherfuckin' mouth, that's why," Snoop snaps. "And you need to watch your own mouth, young'n."

Disheartened, Mike leans back against the back seat (as Chris shoots him a look that says, "Cut that out"), the only person in the car who understands the inanity of it all, despite being the youngest. When the time comes to spring to action, Chris orders him to set up around the corner and drop anyone who runs out the backdoor. Mike is locked and loaded when a boy, who couldn't be any older than 7 or 8, comes running from the sounds of screams and gunshot blasts that control the house. He can't pull the trigger. This is a very encouraging development; at the end of last season, it seemed as though Mike was on the verge of transforming into a Partlow-like unconscionable killer. But it's now clear that at least some of his moral senses have remained in tact.

I don't think we're done with that subplot yet.

3. There's a recently retired stickup artist/action hero that made enough money from his last heist he decided it was time to call it a career and retired to the South (where rumor has it he's sporting a fantastic hat). Marlo wants him.

"Bring his ass back out of retirement," he says.

In the meantime, he has an errand to run. Chris gives him the picture of Sergei that he swiped from City Hall last episode, and he heads to Jessup for a sitdown with the Russian.

However, when he arrives, it's not Boris that comes walking through the door.

"Surprise," greets Avon Barksdale, as he proceeds to steal both this scene in particular and the episode as a whole. I've always thought Wood Harris' performance as Avon was perhaps the most underappreciated on the show, overshadowed by Idris Elba's Stringer Bell, a stronger, more important role. For my money, other Omar, he's the most charismatic character the show has produced, and that's on full display during his meet with Marlo, who must go through him first to get to Sergei (Avon fancies himself an "authority figure" in the joint). Stanfield seems a bit amused by, a bit weary of, but definitely respectful to his former adversary as Barksdale dominates the conversation. Avon thinks he sees Marlo's plan: get to the Greeks through the Russian, cut Joe and all the Eastside players out the connect. They're on the same page; Avon explains that he's got nothing but love for Westside cats, that they need to stick together, and offers Marlo an olive branch on their past beef.

"But fuck all them Eastside bitches," he says with conviction.

And for a small fee of $100,000, to be sent to Brianna, Avon guarantees that "the next time you come to Jessup, it won't be my grill talkin' at you. My word on that."

"So what's up, man?" Avon asks, just doing some catching up, as if he's talking to an old friend. "What's up with you otherwise, you know?"

"Ah, the game is the game," Marlo confirms.

"Always," Barksdale says with a nod. Just a classic scene. The kind of scene that reminds you why you watch TV in the first place, the past and present kingpins of television's finest show chopping it up, one on one, two brilliant actors on their A games.

Anyways, Avon's word is his bond; the next time Marlo's in Jessup, he's able to make a deal with Sergei, who will get word to Vondas that Marlo would like a sitdown.

On a related note, if I'm Marlo, I'm not trusting Avon any further than I can throw him.

Elsewhere, Lester tells McNulty that Marlo's people may be getting sloppy. They take it to Fitz, but the U.S. attorney general is pissed off at Carcetti for rebuking his request for Clay Davis' head and their plea is denied; later, they join Bunk for a drink and lament the indifference shown by the city to Stanfield's deeds. You can go a long way in this country killing black folk," Bunk says. "Young males especially." Adds Lester: "You think that if 300 white people were killed in this city every year, they wouldn't send the 82nd airbourne. Negro please." Racism lives on. Much more progess to be made; Kima arrives at the scene of the home invasion and discovers something even worse than the carnage (three dead bodies) Snoop and Chris have left behind: a little boy hiding in the closet, blood splattered across his face and shirt, totally innocent, the saddest sight you'll ever see. Disgusted, she picks him up and carries him out back, away from the media horde, not knowing how to handle this one; Gus Haynes is the Bunk of the Baltimore Sun: a smart, skilled professional committed to an honest day's work; Bubs continues his recovery; and Clay is flipping out. They're moving in on him.

Stay tuned. This is going to be the most action packed season yet. My word on that.