BRONX, NY – I just got back from walking the dog, and if the current temps are any indication, Angry Ward Wednesday is gonna be a hot one in NYC. That’s not the only sign that summer is on its way. To wit, Yankees fans are overheating with excitement about their team’s play against the pathetic Twins and Trout-Ohtani-and-Nothing-Else Angels, I saw a fire hydrant turned on for no apparent reason the other day, and Cheesy Bruin is proposing I pull my kid out of school early Friday so the three of us can go to Belmont Park. Slather on the sunscreen and crack open some liquid comedy, here’s what we can expect over the next few weeks.
Wall-to-Wall LeBron. Whether the Cleveland Cavaliers beat the Toronto Raptors to advance to the Eastern Conference Finals or lose, all we will hear about is either A) How LeBron James will not be denied and is on his way to another NBA Finals or B) How LeBron James has just played his last game in Cleveland and now let’s spend the next couple of month talking about where he’ll go next. Waiter? Check, please.
NFL Garbage. Short of a crippling injury to some key player or Roger Goodell getting caught on camera decking Whoopi Goldberg at an Olive Garden, anything said about NFL football prior to September is a complete waste of time. But we’ll still be hearing about everything and anything NFL. How great rookies look in camp (Ameer Abdullah was the next Barry Sanders a few years back), how certain players are about to have their big breakout season (Ereck Flowers was one such laughable suggestion last year) and how Andrew Luck is now playing with mouse testicles but hasn’t been cleared to fondle is own. Tune it all out as best you can.
Stanley Cup. It still makes little sense to me that hockey’s champion gets decided when everyone is making their way to the beach. It ain’t right. Still, if they must drink from Lord Stanley’s Cup as the ice around them melts, then let it be filled to the top with. Also, it would be nice to see the Bruins stick around, as my lunatic friends love them and that alone keeps the playoffs entertaining for me.
The Knicks Will Hire a Bum. The Knicks coaching search continues, which is quite hilarious. Why doesn’t Dolan put everyone out of their misery and hire Juwan Howard already. The reaction would be like the Jets drafting Johnny Mitchell x 100. This must happen. Barring that, hire Mark Jackson so he can teach the team to play D before alienating all his players, his coaching staff, the front office, MSG vendors and security personnel. Whatever they do, if the Knicks take much longer, Donald Trump will declare it “a complete witch hunt!”
The Summer Game. Something big is going to happen in baseball in the next few weeks. You can almost feel it. It’s been one big, boring, bowl of mediocrity goulash so far. Hitting, for the most part, has been atrocious league wide. And pitching’s no fun because complete games are now every bit as rare as an MTM Holiday Party. Whatever happens in baseball, let’s hope it’s something fun rather than tragic. Although John Sterling spontaneously combusting would be the sweet spot for both of those things.
That’s it. I’m done. Come back tomorrow for Buddy Diaz, who desperately wants to get on the Mt. Rushmore of famous Buddy’s but is caught behind a logjam which includes, Buddy Rich, Buddy Harrelson, Buddy Holly, Buddy Hackett, Buddy Guy, Buddy Bell, and Buddy Ebsen, among others.
