The Sound of the Suburbs

Do you wanna marry ... a lumberjack?

I didn't think so. Kinda like watching the Winter Olympics. Pass.

Bad enough the Games start with a horrible death in the most exciting event offered -- and not to belittle in the least the poor man and his loving family because my heart goes out to them -- but it just puts a damper on the whole event. And yes, what a horrible bastard I am demeaning the efforts of all the global athletes who have given their hearts and souls for years in search of gold.

More power to them.

I'll take the jingoistic tactic and stick to our dumbass American wheelhouse: hoop, football and baseball. Isn't it about time for pitchers and catchers to report?!

Makes me wonder if Gaylord Perry always got to camp on time, getting that spitter in gear in the crackling Florida February air, and Satchel Paige too ... I don't think so.

So Marcus Camby gets moved by the Clippers for a couple of journeyman and 3M bucks. Donald Sterling, true to form, dumps the third leading rebounder in the NBA for next to nothing, meaning if Brandon Roy gets healthy, Portland makes a run in the West and might even make it to the WCF depending on the draw. Go Blazers!

What is it with MC anyway? Among the most traded players in league history yet by all outward appearances a good citizen, good teammate and hard-working baller who does what it takes to win and then some; best of luck to him in the cozy confines of The Rose Garden. Camby is the perfect guy for Portland; an expert rebounder who knows how to play the glass, which will come in handy when Rudy Fernandez starts heaving 3s. Rudy is a budding star, a deadeye legend in his own mind, and MC will only make him better because there's no better longshot bet than a gunner who misses a heave then gets it back in the same spot for a deuce. For that to happen, of course, it takes a village ... and a rebounder.

I love this game.

Most interesting note about the Dallas All-Star game was three studs clearly telling their coach they needed a blow: KG, Paul Pierce and Tim Duncan. Minimal minutes played. Holding it for the playoffs. Prudent move, gents.

As noted previously in this space, Boston is saving it all for spring, as well they should. They're likely headed for a No. 3 seed and a first-round test v. Larry Brown's Bobcats, who will be a tough out. Boston can only be glad it won't draw Atlanta, who owns the Celtics, in the first round. Stephen Jackson, Gerald Wallace, the rejuvenated and underrated Nazr Mohammed (another doofus Dumars deal) will prove an obstacle in round one, particularly for Boston. If Orlando and Cleveland finish two-one, they will wipe the mat with Miami and Chicago/Milwaukee whomever in the first round while Boston expends so much energy beating Charlotte by the time it gets to Orlando, the Celtics could be chump bait.

Of course, the theory is Boston got Sheed to clamp down Superman but good luck with that. I still won't count Boston out but, barring injury or a major deal tomorrow, the Celtic get flattened by Orlando who then give LBJ and the Cavs all they can handle, with or without Stoudmire, Jamison or Troy Murphy.

Still, Cleveland will win the East because it is their time and, spare me the West deets, LA will be there at the end.

But I repeat myself.

The 82-game NBA slog takes forever, somehow seeming longer than the 162 MLB year, because baseball has its slow, inexorable axis turning season unlike basketball, which is such a speed-freak game due in no small part to the fact our nightly highlight diet consists of high-flying threes and slamaroonies.

Baseball moves at its own speed while hoop fans are poised for the post from day one. But you gotta pay the rent if you're an NBA owner, so there.

Frankly, I can't wait for baseball because the opening season Yankees-Red Sox series will offer more cumulative drama than every NBA game in March combined. But when the playoffs start, ah, suddenly every possession will be War.

I can't wait for any number of reasons:

Chauncey Billups and Denver, the tattooed love boys of Colorado, who will push every opponent to the limit; San Antonio making one last Alamo stand, McDyess, Jefferson and Blair rising up alongside the aging but still killer in a short series nucleus of Duncan/Parker/Ginobili; eighth seed Houston-Portland-New Orleans or Memphis throwing a scare into LA while everyone bitches that all aforementioned above .500 squads should make it in while the pathetic Eastern back-of-the-bus teams make it in with lousy records; Rondo putting Boston on his Kentucky back and taking those old legs as far as they can go; Vince Carter on the spot with his career on the line, knowing he'll be tabbed as nothing less than a perennial failure if Orlando doesn't make it back to the Finals; and Cleveland, the current pick to Go All The Way, with the incumbent pressure to satiate their leader LeBron into staying with only a title fitting the bill...bring it on already.