September 16th, 2003: Los Angeles at Detroit

Detroit Shock 83, Los Angeles Sparks 78

The Game Notes aren't going to let distance keep them from mocking Los Angeles, Lisa Leslie, and all their favorite targets… ah, before they knew that a greater evil would rise from this.


Sigh. 10:27 left in the first half; mom and I forgot that we had the computer with us. Ouch. Barbara Farris just got REJECTED. We’ve been enjoying the game, except now LA’s on a run. This is not a good sign. I may have to turn off the computer.

Oh, very good. Mark Jones can spell little words. Let’s give him a cookie. Honestly, between him and the ultimate carrier/sufferer of HULA I think I’m going to barf. My hostess is being particularly bizarre, discussing her tennis experiences. They’re now showing the Marie Ferdinand/DeLisha Milton Reebok commercial. I love those commercials. I want that guy.

Swin needs to stick to basketball. She has no pitching arm. She looks just like her mother, it’s scary. If Mark Jones doesn’t shut up about how no team has won a title on the road, I shall beat him to a pulp. I don’t like him. Phew, good save by Farris, but the Shock can’t convert. Swin on the perimeter is not of the good. Swin on Nikki Teasley is very interesting, though it does raise the question of where there might be a mismatch. Yay! LA foul! *sigh* How many times do I have to tell you not to let Mabika have an open three? *pause* Room service? Room service? Oh Lord, four point game, oh gods. Ah, here come the reinforcements. And here comes a foul on Tamecka Dixon, who must be a moron of some variety.

That was just funny. Off the hands, off the back. Granted, it became Sporks ball, but it was funny to watch. Meanwhile, Dixon picks up numero tres. And, uh, why do you smack someone on the ass who just fell on her ass? Is Milton stupid or evil? Mwah-hah-hah, diva on the floor. Ah, Aerial!Tweety is a pretty sight.

My friend thinks I’m being evil, and I’m just amused by the AOL commercial. And mom’s showing me a baby mouse. Of the computer kind, not the mammalian kind. Oooh, the Birdy’s on the radio and they just showed her Wheel of Fortune appearance. Anyway. My friend persists in calling Bird Tweety. We argue about that a lot. Ooooh, Leslie’s third. Huzzah and hoorah! Why does he sound surprised that there’s a foul on LA? *slaps Mark Jones* The HULA is spreading. Hurrah! Foul on Tamecka Dixon, her fourth! Oooh, nice scoop by Swin, but no make on the shot- it would help if she weren’t smacked around. Of course, this series would be very different if being smacked around were actually called a foul.

Ew, the man-lingerie commercial again. I’m getting sick of that commercial. It’s halftime now, five-point lead for Detroit. WTF are they talking to the BITCH? I think they’ve infected Doris Burke with HULA. Why is Nancy Lieberman trying to play off something Jones said? He’s a moron. Hee. American Express commercial with Don Nelson. I still think Anne Donovan should do a version of that. Funny SportsCenter commercial with male cheerleaders. Mmmm. Male cheerleaders.

Funny, the three of us here- me, mamacita, and our hostess- are discussing the topic that raventh brought up before, about not being emotionally invested and why we want someone to win/lose. I guess it’s a common thought. (Aon, I wish Gatorade would sign another WNBA player because I am firetrucking sick of seeing Leslie’s face plastered on the commercials.) Sigh. World Cup commercial. Makes me wish for the WUSA. *mourns WUSA* Per usual, Lieberman espouses the bitch for Finals MVP if the Sparks win, Ruth Riley or Swin Cash if the Shock take it. Meyers and Jones continue to display virulent symptoms of HULA. We may need the pliers.

Second half begins. Jones is yammering and it takes forever to discover that La Bitch has her fourth foul. And there was great celebrating. Ah. Offensive rebounds. Hurrah! Dare we start calling this the Palace that Ruth Built? 22 thousand people there? WONDERFUL! And the steal by Powell! And a foul on Teasley! Los Angeles is playing panicky. They’re playing like they’ve never been down before. They’re playing like they’ve never faced a better team before. Lots of fouls, lots of bad shots, and they’re not really taking advantage of anything. Ah, I see the Sparks have been taking lessons from Miko on how to defend Ruth Riley. Detroit knows where the ball is, and where they have to be. And the subs keep coming for the Sporks, as Lynn Pride is in the game. You can’t say that these players don’t want the ball, everyone’s racing for the ball, Sparks and Shock all. I so hope Riley gets Finals MVP, though I doubt she’ll get any attention in the same arena as Swin and La Bitch. It’s not fair.

Apropos of nothing, I really hate the orange Met uniforms.

Oh, crap. Cheryl Ford with the four fouls. No me gusta... And Mabika with the two, and it’s a three-point game. Thank you, Miss Farris, that was much appreciated, as was drawing the foul on Lynn Pride and the Sparks. (BTW, Tesser, can you provide any illumination on why Pride was cut?) Anyway. Rather blatant foul on Mabika against Farris. And where is the T? Farris needs to keep from causing trouble. And why does everyone think LA needs a break? THEY DON’T! Yay! Swin with the hoop!

There is a difference between committing a foul and being called for a foul. LA commits scads of fouls. To be fair, so do the Shock, but not to the extent that the Sparks do. But they’ve been called for very few. And this is what’s letting the Sparks take the lead and possibly steal the game and the title.

Possibly, but such was not to be! Hurray! Let the deluge of dancing fruit and elephants be renewed! The Detroit Shock are the 2003 WNBA CHAMPIONS!




(I'm done with that now.)

RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTH! Finals MVP, aiite! She so deserved it. And hello, Tweety's abs. Damn, girl. Damn.

Lovely, lovely lovely. I shrieked like a little girl, my eyes turned moist, and mamacita cried. Huzzah, huzzah, hurrah! And the throngs gathered about and celebrated the overthrow of the tyrants!

At last, the trophy is in the East TO STAY! (As opposed to 1997, I mean. I'm not trying to imply that the East has at last conquered the West. Not at all. *discreet cough*)

I love that Cheryl got her first season what Karl hasn't gotten in, what, almost twenty seasons. I love that Jennifer Gillom's bandwagon-joining, ring-coveting, desperate *** didn't get it. I love that Kelli's happy for Kedra Holland-Corn (who is not a music group of any variety, those of you who have called her Korn). I love that 22,000 f---ing people got to see a thrilling game and a hometown victory.

Vive la WNBA! Vive la Shock!