BronBron Bummed By Big Brown Bomb -- Special Report by Coachie Ballgames

Studied up on the G Code.
Said stay down with the frowns.
Now I walk pigeon-toed.

BronBron staggered wildly down the court, drove to his left and threw up a desperate jumper that skidded across the rim to the right. He turned upcourt, perhaps too drained by the thousand invisible daggers protruding from his oft-discussed back to feign more than the slightest consternation over a foul call that never came.

Now, who would be the one to thrust the final dagger in his side? Jesus Shuttlesworth? Nope. Coach Calhoun's finest is still emotionally drained from the last time he balled in a big game, when he popped off Denzel over that letter of intent for Big State. Paul Pierce? He's already been stabbed on the reals soooo…. K.G.? Voltron/Ubuntu's figurehead? Too preoccupied with the peculiar way Rajon had dropped the soap after Game 6. Could he be? First the entire Cleveland crowd now Rondo? Couldn't be! Nahhhh, thought employee #5 as he, yet again, clunked his shot at glory.

Nope. In the end it came down to the aptly named P.J. Brown, either a hobo's Kurt Thomas or a Billionaire Boys Club's Horace Grant, depending on your point of view. Ugh.

Whatever your opinion on the middling efforts of Jim Paxson and Danny Ferry to surround AK-Rowdy's chosen sunn with a championship-level supporting cast or his daffy-duck-esque gait, it was still all there for the taking at the end of Game 7. What if Boobie had been the one taking the clutch threes at the end of the game? What if LeFawn had nailed his own late three? What if he had made that first free throw? Why did no one box out P.(latinum) J.(elly) Brown? What if Bron had enough biofuel left in the Escalade to block Paul "Compared to Dominique? Really? Really??" Pierce on that jump-ball scramble at half-court? Why didn't they call a flagrant on that flagrant on Bigg Z? Why they come up with the witness protection? Why they let the terminator win the election? Come on, pay attention!

What's the silver-dollar hotcake lining? A properly-motivated G can only benefit from such a heartbreaking humbling, as F. Scott Fitzgerald told us in the "The Four Fists." If Lebron truly is the AK-Rowdy Allah to Bird's Basketball Jesus then he will spend his summer working tirelessly on his jumper, as both Jordan and Bryant did before him. Required summer reading should include Bird's "Drive," for how to be a competitive asshole, Bo's "Bo Knows Bo" for Buddhist riddles such as "When I die I want to come back as an F-16" (Bo, Bo, that should be If and not When) and, of course, Frownie's yoga posts. For a title in Northeast Ohio aka The Heart of the Heart of It All, is most assuredly within reach before Jay-Z swoops in with that 40/40 Club loochi for a marquee 2010 debut as a Newark Net (Brooklyn's a bigger pipe dream than one of Mario and Luigi's acid trips). As often as the Cavalier supporting cast is derided, they were still just one errant loose ball or one-more big Bron basket from a Rolling Bones rematch. Bron needs to work on his jumper, fershure, but, like Harold Melvin without the Blue Notes, he'll never go platinum without 'em.

Ed's. note: We're taking the Celtics to win their series with Detroit because of Ubuntu, because they've already taken out the best player in the league, and because David Stern wants them to win. The Pick Celtics -150 over Detroit Pistons to win the series.