I’ve not visited Liston’s blog since he opted for a pink template (“hot chicks love pink”) and as such, I missed his essay on the majesty of Rowdy Herrington’s “Roadhouse” (done better, I’ve gotta say, by Andrew Earles on a prior occasion). But there’s no blowing off Liston’s thoroughly researched biography of San Antonio’s Tim Duncan.

Early Life: Tim Duncan’s early life was like anyone else’s. His mom was a super robot sent back in time to play basketball and his dad was a cloud of thunder and lightning. At first, he was real good at swimming but then this wizard or something told him, “Hey. What’s up, homie? Play basketball.” Tim stopped swimming because that wizard told him to and when a wizard says to do something you frigg’n do it.

College Life: After that fateful day with the wizard Tim got so good at basketball. Like, real good. You know how when you look at porn on your home computer when your mom or wife goes to the grocery store and then afterwards you try real hard to make sure you get rid of all the evidence? That’s how hard Tim was practicing at hoops and he was doing it like, at least twice a week. Imagine that. Also, he was playing the saxophone a lot too, but then that wizard showed up again and was like, “I thought I told you to only play basketball?” and then Tim was like, “No, you told me don’t swim.” and the wizard was like, “Don’t get smart.” and Tim was like, “I’m not getting smart, I been smart.” and the wizard was like, “Oh, you’re a funny guy? Well, I got a joke for you. This guy walks into a bar… you’re grounded for two weeks.” and I was like, “Awww, mom. That’s not fair!” and then she was like, “Tough cookies, Liston.

While on the same floor with old pal Joey Craword, Duncan had a relatively quiet night (13 points, 7 rebounds), Tony Parker provided a big chunk of the San Antonio offense (31 points, 9 assists) in the Spurs’ 95-83 victory at Atlanta. The game’s been over for about a half hour, and I suspect Josh Smith is still taking (and missing) shots.

Amidst some 16 Golden State steals, countless (ie. I stopped counting) turnovers by the hosts, and way-fucking-loud-on-the-TV chants of “Fire Isiah”, the Knicks lost their 7th consecutive game tonight, a 108-82 capitulation to the Warriors. MSG’s Al Trautwig described the debacle as “one of the worst nights I’ve ever spent at Madison Square Garden…the karma was awful“, and that’s easy for him to say. He didn’t have to work the evening D-Generation opened for Kiss.