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Gordon Hayward Goes Hollywood - The Downbeat - #601

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   I guess I can't take full credit for the owners and players meeting yesterday for 16 hours according to yesterday's Downbeat,

Sixteen hours down and two more to go
Dave Stern is about to make some bodies turn cold
now they droppin and yellin 
it's a tad bit late
So the big Cohen G has to mediate    

Nate Dogg and Warren G deserve some credit on that.  The power of the Downbeat rears its head again.  If only I could somehow harness this power.  Trying to do this on purpose of course never works.

What was expected though was that after the session finally broke, there was no comment from either side per Cohen's request except Yahoo!'s Adrian Wojnarowski was able to get the following information shortly following the meeting:

Source who was in meeting on progress made in 16 hour talks: "Very little. Still not anywhere near a deal." - 

twitter

When asked if sides had closed any gaps, source in meeting tells Y!; "On small stuff. Hard to see where this is going." - twitter

That's certainly not what you want to hear after a marathon session like that.  Ken Berger did report another source that stated Cohen "'took the emotion out of the meeting'" and that the meeting laid the "'building blocks'" for today's meeting.

   Perhaps we need a weekly caption contest for Hayward.  If he can blow off his rookie dancing, pink backpacks, a ball chucked to his head, his rap song, Olive Garden, and whatever else there's been, then we probably won't be able to make fun of him for this much either:


  After last night's meeting, Tom Ziller goes over seven ways he sees things ending:

TIMELINE 1: DID I NOT ASK FOR NEOPOLITAN?!

Mediator George Cohen slowly works through minute details of each side's positions on literally everything under the sun, including Herman Cain's 9-9-9 plan. (Celtics owner Wyc Grousbeck notes that he likes to jack up the residential tax in Sim City 4 once he builds a half-dozen Governor's Mansions.) Finally, around dinner time, Cohen cuts through and gets the sides to agree on a 51.5 percent split of revenue and a modified luxury tax plan. The players' union orders a round of ice cream to celebrate. Chocolate and vanilla are delivered. The owners all request vanilla.

Stern, however, will only eat Neopolitan, and asks Hunter where the strawberry is. There is no strawberry. Mt. Stern erupts, sending chocolate sauce and shredded coconut flying and totally ruining Derek Fisher's best coat. "Typical. Asking for everything and flipping out when you don't get it," Hunter says. Stern begins firing plastic spoons at Hunter; Hunter responds in kind with ballpoint pens. The conference room turns into a warzone. Cohen is knocked out cold by an errant waffle cone. This lasts for six hours until Cohen finally regains consciousness and blows his safety whistle. After talking about their feelings for another two hours, Stern and Hunter agree to sit in electric chairs for Wednesday's negotiating session. Any outburst will result in a painful but not fatal shock. Impartial observer Roger Goodell will man the controls.

Fisher goes down to the lobby to slump on a bench, defeated by all of the bulls--t.

  This (As this kids would say).  From Andrew Sharp on using "we" when fans reference their team (in response to this Grantland article),

As someone who's spent his entire life accidentally referring to my favorite team as "we", and as someone who doesn't like being lectured, in general, the bait's sort of impossible to resist. And when you think about it, there are a number of different ways we could respond here.

1.  Maybe we could point out we all accidentally say "we" because the basic, absurd premise of sports fandom means identifying with the team we cheer for.     

We buy the tickets.  We buy the merchandise.  We watch the games on television and listen to them on the radio. We are most time more invested in the team than the players are.  Just because we play a different role with the team shouldn't mean that we can't say we when referencing our team.  

If fans can't say we, then why could any employee of the team -- as proclaimed in the Grantland piece -- be able to say we?  Should a part-time ticket sales guy be able to say we?  Is he putting the ball through the basket?  No, but even though his part of the overall success of the franchise is minuscule, he plays a part.

This is easy.  Team - fans = no team.  You should be able to say we when referencing the Jazz all you want.

  Wednesday open poll...  What exactly were the players and owners doing yesterday for 16 hours?  Saved by the Bell marathon?  Starcraft II tournament?  Pajama party?