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Dark Passenger Blogcat

As I suffered through the Bobcats’ ill-fated invasion of the crumbling Boston Celtics empire on Wednesday, I was reminded of why I love the Showtime drama Dexter so much.  Dexter’s plot had an extremely shaky starting point (a story about an affable serial killer named Dexter) that has only grown increasingly ridiculous with each new season.  In this way it’s just like the Bobcats.  And just as I do with the Bobcats, I ignore all of Dexter’s flaws and will continue to be a fan no matter what comically implausible conclusion it eventually comes to.  But I could say that about lots of shows on TV.  Dexter’s great ability, at least for me, is that it gets me to not just like Dexter but to actually cheer for him.  And if there’s one thing I know I can count on with Dexter, it’s this: he always—always—wins.

This is obviously in sharp contrast to the Bobcats, and I’m convinced it’s what keeps me coming back for more.  It’s extremely enjoyable to root for someone or something that always wins.  Sure, Dexter’s definition of “winning” varies slightly from the standard sports definition of “winning.”  In sports, “winning” typically means “scoring more points than your opponent”; for Dexter it means “capturing a murderer, strapping him to a table in your ‘kill room,’ laconically itemizing his crimes so that he is fully aware of why he is there (and having 100% incontrovertible truth every time), slicing off part of his cheek so that you can store his blood as a trophy behind your air conditioner, stabbing him with a machete, mutilating his body parts, wrapping them in trash bags, dumping them into the Gulf of Mexico from the boat that you can inexplicably afford with your police lab technician salary, repeating this process at least once a week, and always avoiding suspicion from your police colleagues despite the fact that your mother was murdered by a serial killer, your sister was engaged to a serial killer (who turned out to be your brother, whom you then murdered), your wife was murdered by a serial killer, and the one cop who DID suspect you of murder died in a ‘mysterious’ explosion.”   Rooting for Dexter is like rooting for the Yankees is like rooting for US Steel.

Could the Bobcats ever join the ranks of great organizations like US Steel and Dexter?  Of course, and step 1, in my opinion, should be to find a point guard with some size.  I know, the frontcourt is a plane crashing into a train wreck.  Just imagining Tyrus Thomas, Gana Diop, Boris Diaw, and Bismack Biyombo immediately makes me want to think about something less horrible and disturbing, like the movie The Exorcist.  Biyombo is actually in Tim Tebow territory when it comes to the TV announcers now: he’s terrible but such a nice guy that he’s over-complimented on every little thing that he doesn’t screw up.  In the first quarter against Boston, after he mishandled an easy pass right under the hoop, but managed to collect it just in time for a shaky lay-up, Steve Martin called it a “nice little flip in by Biyombo.”  In Phoenix, after Biyombo failed to hit an easy put-back, color analyst Eddie Johnson declared him to have a “point guard mentality,” a description that was completely lost on me...

I’m sorry, what was I even talking about?  Oh yeah, the bigs are terrible.  They’re apparently so bad that they don’t just lose basketball games, they also lose trains of thought.  But Diaw is coming off the books, Diop can be functional in small doses, Biyombo can only improve (or if nothing else, provide comic relief), and Derrick Brown might start taking away Thomas’s minutes (like he did against Boston).  In the meantime, we need a point guard with some size who can dish the ball.  And I think I have the answer.  Given the Jeremy Lin phenomenon in New York, why don’t we consider another low-risk, 10-day contract with someone in the D-League?  How about...JamesOn Curry?

Remember JamesOn Curry, the former UNC Tarheel recruit turned juvenile delinquent?  You probably assumed he was dead (possibly after being stabbed with a machete).  But it turns out that he is alive and well and averaging 6+ assists for the Springfield Armor (not sure if that’s Springfield, NY; Springfield, IL; or Springfield, The Simpsons; but it’s a real NBDL team).  Just as important, he’s 6-2”.  And on the PR side, he’s got Carolina roots.  Not only was he born in North Carolina, he also pled guilty to his first six felony drug charges there.  I have no idea how good he is on defense, and randomly capitalized letters in names is never encouraging.  But I also know that Kemba Walker is so small that he can’t even cover his own sneezes.  Meanwhile, Cory Higgins has been every bit the nepotistic nightmare that we feared.  Curry can’t possibly be any worse.  Hell, I’ve already admitted that I openly cheer for serial killers, so how about it, Bobcats?  Free JamesOn Curry!