hashtag: jazzfail

the jazz-nets game didn't exactly inspire much joy for me and the missus. but it got us on tv.

just got back to my hotel in beantown from the boston game. i can say, quite honestly, that after attending the jazz-nets debacle in newark on wednesday night and now this latest massacre, something is wrong. terribly, terribly wrong.

i might get egged in the streets of salt lake for saying this, but i miss boozer a little. al plays as soft as c-booze in the paint without averaging 20 and 10. and, frankly, boozer’s one dunk per game was better than jefferson’s because at least boozer would show some emotion with that stupid screaming afterward, which occassionally lit a fire under the rest of the team.

the whole team looks like it’s playing in slow-motion. tonight, raja had four points in the opening two minutes – pretty solid start for him – and then was a non-factor for the balance of the game. deron was frustrated for his entire time on the floor, starting right at the tip-off, and made several rookie mistakes throughout the game, including getting into foul trouble midway through the first. i recognize that tonight’s officiating staff was a little whistle-happy, but i recognized that fact about 90 seconds into the game. deron, and the rest of the jazz, should have done the same and adjusted their game. instead, they played physical D just long enough to get players into foul trouble and then abandoned playing defense for the balance of the game.

paul millsap: buddy, what happened? you were on the verge of a breakout, all-star season after putting up 46 in miami and since then, what? a couple 20-10s scattered one game every other week? not gonna cut it, guy.

i’m going to stop myself here before i go into each player’s lack of heart in the last two – well, three really, but i wasn’t actually at the washington game so i’m not going to talk about that – games, but it’s pervasive through the entire team. these guys should have come out tonight swinging with two cellar-team-colored chips on their shoulders. instead, they allowed boston to completely control the game from tip to horn.

i’ll sum it up this way: i am embarrased to be wearing my jersey the rest of the night while out “being totally sober” (hi mom!) in boston. i’m still going to wear it; i’m not that big of a crybaby. but i think i’ll have one good conversation with a couple guys at the beantown pub and after that i’ll just mumble something about d-will having the flu and shuffle away.

sad face. llama face.