Monday, November 22, 2004

Dream a Little Dream

Well, you know...

Artest is done for the season, O'Neal and Jackson are gone for a while, Reggie Miller is terrible... and the debate goes on: Who's fault?

I'm not here to declare fault (fans shouldn't throw beer, period. Players don't go into the stands, period.), but it's worth mentioning another topic...

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Yeah, yuck it up all you want, but think of the children! I personally experienced such horrors in the aftermath that it's clearly all but coincidence that this Pistons-Pacers brawl inspired it. I thought I'd be fine. Heck, after watching the footage Friday night, I promptly went to sleep.

I counted sheep, and while that happened, one sheep was a little late jumping over the fence. He bumped into another sheep. Then, a mug of sheep grog came out of nowhere, and Ron Artest appeared and started beating up the sheep AND the farmer to which the sheep belonged. All the surrounding sheep started throwing grog at Artest as the Sheep police carried him away. The deluge went on all night.

I woke up in a cold sweat, and couldn't sleep Saturday. In search of refuge, I went to Sunday Mass. Listening to some familiar words, I found solace. Then, one of the altar servers bumped into the priest as he distributed Communion. One of the Eucharistic Ministers flung the wine out, and Ron Artest came out and started beating the hell out of the 80 year old ladies in the first row, screaming, "Did you throw it? Did you throw the blood? Do I look like some kind of vampire to you?" Jermaine O'Neal backed him up, beating up the second row with the collection baskets. A folding chair came from nowhere. It was ugly.

Is there no end to the horror?

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