Wolves thoughts...

Yes, the wolves are officially out of the playoffs. Nothing they can do about it now. Before two games ago, there was a slim chance. Kind of like there is a slim chance that Tara Reid gets caught making out with Colin Powell in the Pope Mobile on the way to Jamba Juice to announce that Tara is pregnant with Kang or Kodos alien love child. Yes, I mean that kind of slim. But now their ship has sailed. And we move into the next phase: the draft lottery.

Ahhh…the draft lottery. As Timberwolves fans, we haven’t got to be here for years. The ping-pong balls haven’t mattered in the longest time. But, I have to admit, I’m a little bit excited. Not for not making the playoffs and participating in the ping-pong ball selection. No, that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m excited to see Kevin McHale sitting there as the representative for the Wolves. He’s going to look like Travis Coates right before he had to go shoot Old Yeller. There’s a very real chance that he will go Rashard Lewis on us and start crying when the Wolves are announced as having the last lottery pick. I can’t wait for this. This is like Christmas for me.

Or…and this may be better…maybe he gets one of the top three picks. Along with Elgin Baylor. Then, they’ll execute some sort of awkward high-five, hand grabbing combo that makes the whole nation blush at the same time. Then, they can replay it over and over and over and over again on Sports Center. They could even make a video on “How Not to High Five” and have special guests, Robert Kraft of the New England Patriots and Mark Cuban of the Dallas Mavericks. I can’t be the only person who would watch this.

Mmmm…lottery pick. Do we have another William Avery on our hands?

Do you think Latrell Sprewell feels like Homer Simpson on the episode where Homer goes to Happy Widow’s Insurance?

McHale: Now before we give you an extension, I have to ask you a few questions.
Spree: Questions! Questions! My whole scheme down the -- [realizes] I mean ask away.
McHale: Now, under "gives a crap", you crossed out never and wrote always.
Spree: Oh, I thought that said "is out for himself".
McHale: All right. Here's your contract.
Spree: Now let me tell you something, Mr. Sucker. I just--
McHale: Wait, you haven't signed it yet.
Spree: [takes pen] Oh, yeah, I-- [gags] ...must...sign...extension!
McHale: [pulling contract] I'm sorry, sir, we can't re-sign you!
Spree: I made an L!
McHale: That doesn't count!
Spree: Looks like an X.
[McHale manages to pull it away]
McHale: We better get you to a hospital.
Spree: Can I have a free calendar?
McHale: OK.

What is Wally’s deal? All of the sudden, he’s like one of those women who say that everything is okay when it’s really not and he’s at the atomic explosion stage, where the husband would be sleeping in the car, listening to CCR and wondering what the hell happened. Is that how McHale feels now?

McHale: Wally, what’s wrong?
Wally: Nothing.
McHale: I can tell something is bothering you.
Wally: No, it’s fine. Everything is good.
McHale: OK then. (turns back to his paper)
Wally: It’s just that, I should be starting.
McHale: What?
Wally: Well, I worked really hard and I should start.
McHale: But you volunteered to come off the bench.
Wally: I thought that’s what you wanted.
McHale: Well, next time, why don’t you say what you actually mean?
Wally: I HATE IT HERE AND I DON’T WANT TO BE WITH YOU ANYMORE!