I’m listening to “Remember the Name” right now. You know the song if you’ve seen a number of sports events—it’s become that “pump up” song (“This is 10% luck, 20% skill, 15% concentrated power of will, 5% pleasure, 50% pain and 100% reason to Remember the Name). This was a highly serendipitous song to come up on my shuffle, because the sports topic, as far as I’m concerned, is LeBron James v. The Detroit Pistons, Game Six.
Suffice it to say that LeBron and LeBron only, through fortune (Dwyane Wade’s injury, awful coaching opponents, the fortunate second seed, etc.) and skill (He is LeBron, after all) is on the cusp of bursting into the Finals for the privilege of being dismantled by the Spurs.
What’s so significant about this? Well, LeBron is The King, the Chosen One, etc., etc.; but beyond that, his team is absolutely awful. Sasha Pavlovic is good…if he’s your seventh man. Drew Gooden’s hair is probably the most interesting part of his game (see right)
Zydrunas Ilgauskas is slower than a 1985 computer…Mike Brown, the coach, is befuddled. LeBron James is truly, truly lifting his team to another place, a place that he shouldn’t be able to reach, even when you take into account the crappiness of the East (how many playoff West teams would the Cavs be favored against? Two? Three?)
Whatever the luck, there’s an excellent reason to remember the name; to be a Witness: the apocalypse he’s about to unleash on Detroit at 5:30 PM