Heat Check
I'm really running out of ways to be feverishly optimistic. Save for my music. The day Shaq scores 5 points in an NBA Finals game is the day I join the NBA to take his place. He's averaging 11 points in this series. Without the Diesel to carry some of the load, Wade is overmatched. I am truly hurt by all this. I had so many high hopes entering this season, and they were validated and vindicated through our prolific playoff run. All for naught it seems. Down in a 0-2 hole. We have 3 games down here on the Beach, and I don't find myself expecting a run away victory, so much as hoping the Heat don't disappoint our fans right here in our home town. We can easily make this a series. We really can. But I'm not holding my breath. I've been a Heat fan for a long time. I remember the annual heartbreak that was facing the New York Knicks every post season. It's all coming back. What started as a general composition of ill sentiments and the facing of a harsh reality, has turned into an open plead for the Miami Heat, and Shaq in particular, to step it up. Take a look at the photo above. Before, Shaq would have thrown down on Dampier, injured Dirk in the process, gotten fouled, and then missed the free throw charmingly. Now those caroms off the rim are causing me to damage my teeth. 2-16? Sick. I'm getting sick. Tuesday night I'll head home from work and expect revitalization in a way only Riley and Co. can provide. I'm not a religious man by nature, and I don't look toward higher powers in times of crisis, natural disaster (at home or abroad) or personal strife. I'm willing to turn the other cheek and go the spiritual route. But forget all this doom and gloom stuff. Lets Go Heat!!