As is usual for me on a Saturday morning, I awoke in a love motel (and not a very good one). I've no cable at home, so when I find myself in such situations as the one described I always make sure to check the tube to see if there are any basketball games of the NBA variety being aired.
Sometimes I get lucky, but what usually (read: always) winds up happening is that the game runs later than 11 a.m. KST, which means my stupid ass has to check out. Also, the games are invariably blowout(comb)s, so no biggie.
Enter: yesterday. Hornets vs. Lakers. My first chance to see Chris Paul play (yeah, I live in Korea; I don't know what's sadder: that it took me three years to actually see Prince Paul work his magic, or that I haven't eaten corn chips in half a decade).
Conclusion: Paul, barring injury, might very well be (read: definitely will be) the best point guard I've ever seen play. Better even than Payton, Kidd, or Nash. You dig?
If dude doesn't get the MVP award, I'm waving automatic guns at nuns.
Anyway, that taste of greatness whetted my appetite for the Rockets/Lakers game tomorrow, which, unfortunately, I'll have to wake up in the morning and read about. Go Rockets.
By the way, with Dwyane Wade done for the season, it's okay for me to call Chris Paul my favorite active player, right? That's not infidelity, is it?
I miss you, National Basketball Association.
(PS - Save the Sonics!)
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