Hey, did you know the Cavs play the Bulls tonight? Yeah, me either. It's not real basketball, it's surrealisketball. The kind with colors and motifs and themes and dreams and nightmarescapes and sprawling cities wrapped in Escher fever dreams. The invisible hand has brought us this game for amusement, so strap yourself into your basketball chair and let's draw conclusions.
Who? Cavs and Bulls or the perception of memory contained within those two entities.
When? 7 p.m. ET
Where? We're just specks in a constantly moving universe propelling through space thousands of miles an hour.
Where on my eyeballs? NBA League Pass, WTAM 1100 (Cleveland)
Why? You're telling me. This is a question I can't answer. Light a candle, question the nature of being. Our very souls are whispering.
I need a song that will get me pumped for this game, can you help?
I guess. Here.
Stop on by and talk about basketball and postmodernism and enjoy the macabre stylings of Cleveland sports, brought to you by the ghost of Eliot Ness. He probably knew Cleveland pain even better than we do. It's a good thing the Browns weren't around then.
Today we can analyze every decision Dion Waiters makes and come to knee jerk reactions about a kid's future based on a series of abstract movements. We can use the fluttering of Anderson Varejao's hair to create some kind of butterfly effect resulting in a new universe in which the Decision never happened and Dajuan Wagner became a firefighter.
If you have questions, comments, or just want to insult anyone, take it up with Conrad. I don't even know what I'm doing here in the first place.
Follow us on Twitter at both @FearTheSword and @ConradKaczmarek. Also, like us on Facebook. GO CAVS.