I figured out what I hate about the
I can't hear it.
That’s what the NBA ought to televise. That’s where they ought to train their parabolic microphones, right there on
Robinson is the most fun a
In the meantime, then, there’s Robinson. Did you see that dunk during the Bulls’ vivisection of the
in Milwaukee last night?
Chairman of Fun, is what he is, mister.
His massive dunk apparently cashed some nice lottery tickets with several teammates. At stake were bets or bragging rights, or both. Whatever, there was something to talk about, and Robinson can talk, believe me.
Believe Jennings, too. Believe that Robinson's relentless yakking was a big reason that Jennings opened his pottymouth on referee Derrick Stafford in the fourth quarter and was ejected after Robinson sucked him into a charging call.
Jennings, understand, was tossed with only one technical foul, so that must've been some classic combination of naughty words.
Which is what I want to hear. Which is what you want to hear, too, admit it.
I want to hear what the players say about girlfriends, mothers and body parts. If somebody greenlights this show, you've finally got an interesting version of "Keeping Up With The Kardashians.''
I want to hear their creative cursing, too. I think we all can learn something from professionals. No bleeping, no lip-reading, just bringing it. I mean, how else will we parents learn what the popular kids are saying on the school bus?
This edition of Robinson-Jennings, by the way, figured to be exponentially great after the last Bulls-Bucks game when Robinson refused to shut up even while Jennings was killing it in the
That’s the good stuff, and always has been.
Face it, there are too many games that are just awful looking. There are too many games that devolve into the torturous parade to the dreaded free-throw line. It's interminable. It destroys your will to live. It becomes more unwatchable than my Tribune video blogs.