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Bobcats End Season Lacking Dignity, Commas in Their Fan Appreciation Ads


Look at it this way, Bobcats fans: at least “.106 winning percentage” doesn’t make for a very catchy derisive chant.  Not only is Charlotte officially the worst team ever, with 23 losses to close out the season (23—the Irony-Meter’s on 10), one month-old Bobcats fans everywhere are wondering if the Bobcats will ever win a game in their lifetime.  At least Scott Fowler should be happy.  The Charlotte Observer columnist wrote an idiotic article on Saturday hoping that the Bobcats would lose out in order to achieve a sort of “worst-ever” celebrity status.  “Make this season one for the record books,” Fowler wrote, “and then rebuild.”  Call me crazy, but I see no upside in being associated with the worst-ever team.

Actually, Fred Carter would call me crazy.  The unofficial spokesman for the 1972-73 76ers, the NBA’s now-former worst-ever team, really did seem to revel in the notoriety.  Back in 2010, when the Nets were threatening to displace the 76ers as the worst-ever team, Carter told the New York Times that he hoped it wouldn’t happen. “Immortality only comes in so many different ways,” Carter reasoned, sounding disturbingly like how I imagine Charles Manson looks back on the Tate-Labianca murders.  Then again, Carter also claims credit for being the person who invented the fist-bump, so he might be a few beers short of a six-pack.  I’m even slightly worried that Carter might take out a lawsuit against the Bobcats for a combination of defamation and copyright infringement.



On Wednesday and Thursday night, Carter’s worst fears became reality.  First the Orlando Magic and their plucky, beloved little 2-guard, JJ Reddick, chucked their way to victory.  The Magic came roaring out of the gate by hitting 6-of-9 3-pointers.  Annoyingly, the Bobcats seemed surprised by this tactic.  What did they expect was going to happen?  Orlando leads the league in three-point attempts by a gigantic margin.  Coach Stan Van Gundy probably has a drill in which his players must sprint to the far end of the bathroom before throwing their toilet paper wads in the toilet after they wipe themselves.  Then again, it’s the Bobcats we’re talking about.  Coach Paul Silas is probably surprised when the plumber and the housewife suddenly start having sex in porn movies.  Anyway, to their credit, the Bobcats recovered in the second quarter and closed out on the perimeter, allowing just 8-of-29 long-range shooting the rest of the way.  It didn’t matter, though, as the 37 first-quarter points scored by the Magic were too much to overcome, even though the Bobcats outscored Orlando over the final three quarters...

...Leading to the surreal, season-ending game against the Knicks on national television.  Part of me (the bigger part) was truly mortified that the final humiliation of this burlesque of a season was going to be paraded in full view of the general public.  On the other hand, it was a pleasant change of pace to have phrases like, “It has been a season of futility for the Bobcats” spoken by Marv Albert.  Prior to Thursday, had Marv Albert ever even said the word, “Bobcat”?  My guess is no, unless it was a pet name for one of the ladies he used to cross-dress with and bite.  Other surreal moments included:

  • Jamario Moon going 2-for-5 from the field.  I say this because Moon scores so infrequently, I halfway expect him to celebrate each bucket as if he just scored a goal in soccer.

  • Tyrus Thomas, inexplicably not suspended.  I thought we were done with this guy, who might be the first player in history whose own fans were hoping he’d be suspended.  Tyrus should change his last name to “Voorhees.”

  • Gana Diop playing/remaining upright for 20 minutes.  It’s been a while since we’ve seen Diop in “action,” but I’m pleased to see he hasn’t forgotten how to commit completely pointless offensive fouls.  Diop really doesn’t get enough blame for this failure of a season.  Way too heavy, appearing only sporadically, and completely useless, his nickname ought to be “The Big Phonebook.”


So that does it.  This slow-moving disaster of a season is finally over.  Frankly, after this Bobcats team kidnapped me, pulled me out of a car trunk, beat me up, tied me to a chair, cut my ear off, and doused me in gasoline, it’s actually a relief to finally just be shot to death.  I’ll do a recap next week!


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