Bobcats 111, Heat 103 (OT)

The Bobcats traveled to Miami on Sunday night to take on the Heat. The big news was that Dwyane Wade, the game’s most exciting foul shooter, returned to the lineup! My initial reaction was: Hmm, playing an expansion team of nobodies, nursing a bum shoulder…it’s quite possible we could see a new free throw record tonight. But before I take too many shots at Miami, they deserve some serious credit, as ESPN’s John Hollinger had them lottery-bound, and that was before Wade was injured, leading me to wonder if Hollinger rates his own predictions, because that one was pretty inefficient. Meanwhile, the Bobcats were without Matt Carroll and Adam Morrison, both injured, causing commentator Matt Devlin to worry how they would cope without two of their big “shooters.” I wasn’t as concerned, because lately neither of them had really been “makers.”

Wade didn’t start, and Shaquille O’Neal picked up two early fouls, so in came Alonzo Mourning. I know Mourning has a very serious medical condition, and I’m sensitive to that, but as a native New Jerseyan, I’ve got to side with my native people and hate him just a bit. Therefore, I always find it a little funny and satisfying when Mourning makes a layup, gets fouled, screams dramatically, and then…misses the free throw. Anyway, Wade came in at the end of the first quarter to a rousing ovation, wearing a bizarre, skin-tight, single-sleeved black pad, which made him look like he was in the process of turning into Venom. Commentator Henry Williams described it as if he were a tour-guide: “If you’ll notice the long sleeve that Wade is wearing (which was kind of funny because it was impossible not to notice the kooky getup—it sticks out worse than the misplaced “y” in Dwyane's name), it traps heat and provides protection.” Wade’s first points came on...two free throws. Unsurprisingly, the Heat went to the line 15 more times than us. It got so bad, I was just happy whenever we didn’t get called for offensive fouls. Poor Primoz Brezec couldn’t even get a call when Shaq punched him right in the face.

It didn’t seem to faze us, though, as we sprinted out to a 16-point lead to start the second half, led by Gerald Wallace, who got his sexy on with 30 points, 8 rebounds, and 4 steals. Wallace’s only mistake came when he tried to hurdle James Posey and landed hard on his…front—is it possible to break your groin? Perhaps most encouraging was the fact that we closed out the third up by ten points, despite playing the last two minutes with a downright crazy lineup: Jake Voskuhl, Walter Herrmann, Ryan Hollins, Alan Anderson, and...go ahead, you’ll never guess the last guy in a million tries…Give up? Jeff McInnis! Told you you wouldn’t get it.

Then in the fourth quarter it all fell apart. The Heat were on. On the street. Inside your head. On every beat. They went on a twelve point tear to start the quarter, led by that diabolical Wade—curses, I thought he was dead! Wade finished the night with 12 points (6/12 from the line) and 8 assists in 26 minutes. Crap, Jason Kapono was back too. Who’s next, Rony Seikaly? Why do the Heat all have to return against us? Kapono, channeling Sunny Crockett’s 5-o’clock shadow, knocked down everything he shot (7 of 9 for 19 points). And THEN, we were up by 1 with 30 seconds left and committed a shot clock violation!! The scream I emitted at this point rivaled Sean Penn’s in Mystic River when he finds out his daughter was murdered. Wade gets fouled by Felton (or at least a foul was called), makes 1 of 2, and into OT we go, where I assumed the Heat would inevitably close it out. I swear, this team is evil. This is the devil’s team, and that fireball-through-the-hoop logo at the center court of American Airlines Arena is hell-spawned.

And yet, we somehow held it together! Brevin Knight (13 points, 7 assists) and Raymond Felton (16 points, 6 assists) commanded the team like Jean-Luc Picard and Commander Riker, and Herrmann (15 points) nailed three huge threes to close it out. Unsung hero Voskuhl had 12 points and 7 boards and helped contain Shaq (15 and 9), while sung hero Emeka Okafor had 13 and 8. What a game! What a weird game. The Heat shot just 26 of 44 from the free throw line and committed 26 turnovers. Lecherous Lucifer must be pissed at them for something. Even the post-game was odd, as we saw (but did not hear) Herrmann being interviewed by the Heat announce team—what language was he speaking? Who cares, I’m totally drained…