Clippers 100, Bobcats 93

Has the Bobcats training staff explored the possibility of replacing Sean May’s knee with some sort of bionic device yet? I’m just saying, 'cause we really could have used him last night. With no Emeka Okafor (strained calf), we had a gaping hole under the basket, and the only thing Jake Voskuhl and Primoz Brezec are good for replacing is Emeka’s foul production. If nothing else, last night was a painful little reminder of how unbearable those 20+ games were last year without EO.

Strangely, you would have thought that Clippers big man Elton Brand would have capitalized on Okafor’s absence and put up career numbers, considering Matt Carroll was often his biggest challenger for rebounds. But Brand was only good for a pedestrian 14 points and 12 boards. The real problem was Corey Maggette, who not only got the Clippers the win, he also single-handedly made this game unwatchable by getting to the free throw line 20 times—his final line was 25 points on just 3 field goals. I’d been a bit drowsy coming into this game due to the late start and the fact that I was under the weather, but I would have had difficulty staying up for this game while doing crank. This game was like downing a bottle of Ny-Quil: awful and sleep-inducing.

I do give the Bobcats credit for crawling out of a 15-point 1st half hole and making a game of it, but boy, was this one putrid. Gerald Wallace just couldn’t finish his drives off at the end of the game (he still had 20 points but went just 7-of-17 from the field and 3-6 from the line) and Derek Anderson’s craftiness was shown up by the crafty O.G., Sam Cassell. Adam Morrison continues to shoot well (15 points), but he’s got to do something about those turnovers, many of which come off traveling violations. I find myself holding my breath every time he gets the ball off the curl, because he tends to resemble Fred Flinstone starting the car—the refs probably could call a bunch more on him if they wanted to.

Raymond Felton also vanished for long portions of this game. That makes two games in a row that Felton’s been off, and I think I know why. In the latest issue of Dime magazine (not that I subscribe to it—please! I’m 30 years old; the mailman probably just mistook it for my regular copy of Popular Science), writer Sean Couch proposes giving Raymond the nickname of “Cookout.” “It’s because your game is like a chef handing out food at the grill,” Couch explains to Raymond, to which Raymond enthusiastically responds with, “Alright…” Thanks a lot, Sean, you just traumatized the kid. Now because of you, Felton's probably walking around terrified that he's going to be saddled with the worst nickname since "Booger" McFarland. "Cookout"? You sure you don't want to call him "Spatula?" How about "Apron?" If Felton’s game really is like a chef handing out food at the grill, why not call him “Chef” then, instead of the activity? That is, unless you know of some sort of robotic grill that’s capable of dishing out its own burgers. And if you do, we need to put the inventors in touch with Sean May.