Question: Why do pro sports leagues insist on playing meaningless all-star games?
Answer: Because people like me keep watching them.
I am RedEye’s Frontrunner, the world’s biggest bandwagon-jumper and the only hoops fan who owns every NBA jersey ever made. You see, preparation is the key to being so easily awestruck.
Stand back, this could get sloppy, for on this one NBA All-Star night, I claim both teams as mine and every All-Star as my all-time favorite.
Until somebody loses.
Grant Hill’s wife, Tamia, sang the Canadian national anthem before the game in Denver. “I get more nervous when she performs than she does,” said half of the most talented NBA couple ever. Brandy and Quentin Richardson, aim high, my children.
What do you get when you have 24 All-Stars each wearing a $169.99 authentic All-Star jersey? Only the best $4,079.76 I’ve ever spent at the nba.com store.
SHAQ WON the tip! M-V-P! M-V-P!
Vince Carter, LeBron James, Kevin Garnett and Kobe Bryant score the first four baskets of the game. I’m getting dizzy. Love is all around me.
My favorite part of this game is when one player dribbles like crazy and the other nine step aside, have a chat, maybe get a coffee, make a phone call, sign some autographs …
On Shaq’s first free throw, he raised the ball with one hand and put his other hand on his hip. Shaq’s a little teapot, short and stout.
Tim Duncan just nailed a three-pointer! M-V-P! M-V-P!
For the first half, I am wearing the Eastern Conference jersey. For the second half, I go with the Western Conference jersey. If there’s OT, I get happy. And naked.
Cannot believe it took me this long to put these two together. Steve Nash and Jackie Earle Haley from “The Bad News Bears” and “Breaking Away.” Truly, two of the all-time greats.
Allen Iverson actually said this earlier this weekend: “I wish I could shoot like Jordan, pass like Magic and overall play like Isiah.” Allen, you … complete me.
LeAnn Rimes sang “Nothin ‘Bout Love Makes Sense” at halftime. Truer words were never spoken about my affinity for Manu Ginobili.
I just spotted four of the biggest musical talents of our generation in their sideline seats: Nelly, Jay-Z, Beyonce and movie director Rob Reiner.
Forgive me but I just clicked over to watch ESPN replaying the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team beating the Soviet Union. I have that jersey too.
East leads West 61-59 at the half. I need to borrow Bag Boy’s brown bag to keep from hyperventilating.
LeBron just scored, then assisted! Do I sense a “LeBron for President” campaign for 2012? Screw the age limit. M-V-P! M-V-P!
Another celeb at the weekend festivities: Wilmer Valderrama. Even I am unimpressed by this.
Sure, it’s getting late in the game but where you see sloppy passes, zero defense and off-balanced 3-pointers I see the great Americans doing great things.
It’s official: Tracy McGrady can score from anywhere. If I have kids, I won’t think twice about giving my boy a girl’s name.
Steve Kerr is a terrific TNT announcer. Excuse me while I gaze longingly at my framed Bulls No. 25.
Eight of the 12 starters on the West squad never went to an American college. See, Mom? There’s hope for me yet.
East wins 125-115. I wish we could cut the MVP trophy up and share the wealth. But this isn’t kindergarten. Allen Iverson, I bow down to you sir. Somebody, braid my hair.
Monday is an off day, the regular season returns Tuesday, but my gratuitous fawning over the NBA’s best? It never rests.
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Edited by Chris Malcolm (ccmalcolm@tribune.com) and Drew Sottardi (dsottardi@tribune.com)
