| 2012/2013 NBA Regular Season: Game 80 | ||
|---|---|---|
 |
vs |  |
|
33-46 (11-28 on the road)
|
2-1 DEN | |
| April 6th, 2013 – 3:00 PM (MT) | ||
| Pepsi Center – Denver, CO |
||
| Altitude /950 AM / 104.3 FM The Fan | ||
| Probable Starters | ||
| Damian Lillard |
PG | Andre Miller |
| Wesley Matthews |
SG | Andre Iguodala |
| Nicolas Batum |
SF | Wilson Chandler |
| LaMarcus Aldridge |
PF | Kenneth Faried |
| J.J. Hickson |
C | Kosta Koufos |
| Notes | ||
| Blazers Edge | Blogs | You fear to know you are here, but you cannot leave! |
| Wesley Matthews (questionable values) Nicolas Batum (out, baguette poisoning) | Injuries | Danilo Gallinari (torn ACL, out, and about) |
| The Blazers must, with must haste, find an additional shooter to compliment their rookie |
Stat | The so called “Nuggets” are a plague upon the league. They haunt the commissioners dreams |
The following is a pastiche of H.P. Lovecraft short stories. If you are unfamiliar with his works I suggest you read up on them immediately. I suggest starting with “The Outsider” and then progressing from there. His wording is a bit archaic and dense…but once you get the hang of it you will understand the flow. If you aren’t familiar with his work, the following will make very little sense to you. If you aren’t familiar, please proceed to the comments section and discuss today’s game against the Portland Trail Blazers. This is a special preview for the last game I’m covering for this regular season.
The gibbous moon hangs brightly in the night sky and mocks me as I hurriedly find the words to put on this paper. As Professor of Anthropological and Mythological NBA Studies at Miskatonic University in Arkham, Massachusetts, I have never once felt the oppressive pain of my words failing me. Yet, tonight I cannot countenance the appropriate words to describe the eldritch abomination which I envisage for a very dark future.
You see, it was a peculiar dream I had whilst retiring to my chamber this last weekend that frightened me so. It has kept me awake, pawing at fictitious shadows and crying out in fear as the most subtle of noises. I shall be driven mad at the prospect of envisioning such a dream ever again. I must steel myself from the fear. The dream is short but terrifying.
It happened on a peculiar day during a convention of the greatest minds in NBA Anthropology that was hosted by my employer Miskatonic University. I spent most of the time with Dr. Danilo Gallinari who’s studies of forbidden lore, including the much whispered Necronomicon have become legendary in the field of NBA Anthropology and Folklore. Suddenly, later that first day, Dr. Gallinari was struck down with an unknown malady and convalesced in his private mansion. Meanwhile a couple of our colleagues Professor Andre Iguodala, also from Miskatonic, and Professor Wilson Chandler from Michigan were asked to pick up the slack from the ailing Italian folklorist and finish out our precious studies.
It was harder and much more arduous than we expected. The professors and I worked late into the night, combing over such forbidden texts as the dreaded Necronomicon, Bill Simmons Book of Basketball and all Sports Almanac's from 1959-2013. Finally, my colleagues and I were exhausted from our pursuits and chose to retire to our mutual chambers until the next morning.
My sleep was fitful. I had a disturbing and daemonic dream that, god help me, I must tell the world. In my dream I was watching the seeding of a basketball tournament. Every team I saw was like an unspeakable curse upon my sight. It started with the blasphemous Thunder from Oklahoma and their squamous, reproachful game. Next was the San Antonio Spurs who’s cackling abominations bring such fear to everyone … and then it stopped. Nothing but forbidding and comatose blackness that seemed to reach many thousands of fathoms deep into my mind.
I found myself in a dimly lit cavern … at the end of this cavern I saw an alter that seem to be lit as of itself, but there was no flame. Atop the altar was an idol … as I drew nearer I recognized it as the Lawrence O'Brien trophy, given out to NBA Champions every year. This idol was but a legend to me, and seeing it's horrible grandeur before me filled me with a feeling I have never known before. Under the trophy was a book. I reached down and gently pulled the book from under it's weight and unfolded it. I began reading it's contents…
Next thing I remember I awoke in my bed chamber screaming at some nameless horror, some Stygian nightmare that I couldn't remember.
After recovering from my apparent nightmare, I joined my colleagues for a late breakfast in the atrium. Still shaken from my dream, I recounted as best I could the shocking dream that I had. Professors Chandler and Iguodala were as disturbed as I was but could find no clue as to it's meaning. It was decided to go about our work and then discuss the contents of this dream later.
We decided to do our work in the forbidden archives, deep inside the most hallowed halls of Miskatonic University. We kept up idle chatter, speaking about the return of our friend Ty Lawson who had come down with a particularly brutal foot disease while traversing the dreaded jungles of Cambodia. We also spoke about old Professor Andre Miller who is coming up on retirement but refuses to acknowledge it. It served as a good distraction from my dream and again we worked well into the night.
After again retiring to my bed chamber, I managed to sneak out a particularly good tome about the champions of the National Basketball Association through it's history. Under my dim-lit bed light, I read about the omnipresent champions of old … most of whom are whispered about in hushed voices around the halls of Miskatonic University. It was at the end of this book that I made a mind altering discovery that shook me to my very core. I find it fortunate that I have kept my sanity this long, though I long to give in to the sweet oblivion of the irrational mind. I cannot fathom, not contemplate for too long the meaning of my discovery, lest I give way to the madness that threatens to destroy my world.
You see, I opened the book to a chapter called "Most recent Champion". There, in the bold typeface of that blasted, accursed book lay something that simply could not be true. IT COULD NOT BE! I ran screaming from my chamber and hid myself in my library. I have been there ever since. Please, you must understand I didn't know this to be true because I COULDN'T contemplate it's meaning. But it was there. In boldface type. Denver Nuggets, 2013 NBA Champions as third seed in Western Conference. These words tear at my mind like a thousand cutlasses, it could not be … not because it was not possible. No no…
It was because I read the very same I saw and read in my dream. Weeks BEFORE the playoffs were to begin!
***
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