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Regrettably, we have in fact neglected the Pacers for far too long now.  So tonight, I’m neglecting my husbandly duties to watch the Pacers/Sixers game.  I mean, really watch it...intently.  And I’m going to jot down whatever strikes my fancy.  It’s merely a  peek-in on the Pacers to see where they stand right now.  The time just felt right.

On to tonight’s game.

7:03 — Stacey Paetz stumbles through the pre-game intro.  She has the personality of W.O.P.R. from Wargames, but with a spooky Bob-Jones-University-esque edge.  Anyway, W.O.P.R. comes dangerously close to initiating global thermalnuclear war as she attempts to dramatically guy-talk her way through some quick focal points of tonight's game.  Mercifully, she throws us to a commercial break. 

7:05 — The first “Everybody Loves Raymond” ad of the night.  Approximately 1,738 more to go. 

7:07 — The Pacers’ starting line-up: Tinsley, Miller, Jackson, JO and Foster.  The Sixers start Iverson, Korver, Thomas, Iguodala and Dalembert. 
For the record, Kyle Korver looks exactly like a cross between
a white Tito Jackson and a Neanderthal...with some “O.C.”
swarthiness thrown in there for some flare.  Worth mentioning.

7:08 — Clark Kellogg tells us that most of the Pacers have the flu. 
Nevertheless, they’re all toughing it out, Robitussin-style.  Except
for Bender.  He’s been quarantined.  His immune system reacts
to the flu the same way a normal human immune system reacts to
being run over by an M-1 Abrams tank.  For his own safety, he’s
expected to return sometime in June.

7:12 — Jackson promptly nails a 3-pointer from the corner.  But all is not well.  His “Jack 1” armband infuriates most of the Red-State-viewing audience as calls from Bedford and Martinsville and Jonestown flood the FCC. 

(As a sidenote, Stephen Jackson looks like the most over-achieving "YMCA" player ever.  Seriously.  He's got the old-school craftiness in the paint, the arthritic-looking set shot, and an aversion to getting back on defense.  Plus, he's legitmately insane.  Now, if we can just get him to start throwing spinning bounce-passes into the post and
calling anyone under the age of 30 "young fella," he'd be the carbon copy of every old black guy I've ever played with at the "Y.") 

7:15 — Tinsley just got called for “palming.”  Seriously.  I’m speechless.  Most of the Wachovia Center is speechless.  Tinsley appears confused.  I’m sure he’s heard of the "palming" rule…kind of like how he’s heard of "George Mikan."  Or "The Lost City of Gold."  He just never thought he'd come face-to-face with it, though.  Out of habit, I eagerly wait for him to grab the nearest dustpan and start swinging.  (Didn't happen.)

7:23 — Al Albert with this insight: "Iverson will probably be looking to get his shots tonight."  That’s the NBA equivalent of Don Fisher pointing out that "Mike Davis will probably be looking to his assistants for help tonight." 

7:34 — Pollard is checking in.  Buckle up, Pacer fans.  Buckle up, indeed.

7:41 — No idea what just happened.  Dalembert apparently pinned Jackson’s shot up against the shot-clock…Albert said it was goaltending…Kellogg thought it was a foul…we’re shown a replay of something from the 1995 season…and as live action resumes, we see the tail-end of a jump-ball between Iverson and what looks to be Danny Crawford.  Yet there’s no explanation.  Welcome to the crap-tastic world of the "WB," where shoddiness reigns and "7th Heaven" is entering it's 23rd season. 
If it weren't for Clark Kellogg being the best color commentator in all of sports, I'd be listening to Mark Boyle and Slick right about now.  

7:55 — Michael Spinks is sitting courtside.  (Yes, that Michael Spinks.  The same Michael Spinks who Tyson ICU'd roughly 13 seconds into the first round back in '88.)  We see Spinks rocking Leo-Mazzoni-style
while giggling at his bag of popcorn.  

8:01 — F---.  Tinsley is out.  Sprained
his foot.  This is bad.  Very bad.  Very
Flava-Flav-dating-Brigette-Nielsen bad. 
In short, this can't possibly end well. 

Why?  Because Tinsley's presence on the
floor gets people moving.  Really moving. 
They run the floor in transition.  They whip
around down screens.  They back-cut like
an 8th-grade CYO team.  All in the name
of stat-stuffing.  These guys know that JT
will get them the ball in scoring position
(or turn it over trying).  These are the Good Pacers, relatively speaking.

However, when he’s not on the floor, Indiana quickly morphs into the Bad Pacers (aka, the “And-1 Mix Tape Tour Ballers”).  Everyone just stands around, basically disregarding the rules of basketball, patiently waiting for their turn to go one-on-four.  And while this greatly excites the Mike Davis fans among us, it simply kills the Pacers' chances of winning. 

8:09 — Not surprisingly, the Sixers go on an 8-0 run and take a nine-point lead. 

8:18 — Halftime.  The Pacers have somehow kept it respectable, despite Tinsley's absence.  They're down seven and lucky to be so.

8:29 — If you ever fear that our country is becoming too intelligent for our own good, take a look an "Arby’s” commercial, the ones starring an oven mitt; you'll feel much better.  These ads seem to be predicated on this recent let’s-appeal-to-3rd-graders-and-homeless-people approach to comedy, presumably made popular by Jay Leno.  Not only are they basically unwatchable, but they’re--

8:29 — SWEET MOTHER OF MOSES!!! Stacey Paetz and her Arvydas-Sabonis-size head just blasted back onto the screen, completely unannounced.  I mean, not
to be rude, but WB-4 really needs to issue some kind of pre-Paetz warning siren.  She’s just a whole lot of raging self-righteousness to take in all at once, so unexpectedly.  It's overwhelming.  Especially when I'm still expecting to see Scott Hoke and Darnell Hillman run through the halftime highlights.  I’m not asking for much…it doesn’t have to be a siren.  Maybe just a quick beep.  Or a written disclaimer.  Just a heads-up of some type. (Or—if they feel that a pre-Paetz warning system might be a tad insensitive—they could incorporate the Marla Hooch Method and film her from about 90 feet away while shutting off her microphone.)  Whatever steps are necessary to prevent another blood-pouring-from-my-eyes-and-ears episode, I'm all for it.

8:30 — Paetz, calling the Rockets highlights: “Check out the big fella, Yao Ming, with this sweet baseline jumper…Yao-zaaah!” 

(And no...I didn't make that up.  It's the God's-honest truth.  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go jam a fork into the toaster.) 

8:37 — Iverson hits another running trick-shot to bump the lead up to 10. 

I guess now is as good a time as any to say this, so here goes: my name is Roy Hobbson, and I’m an Allen Iverson fan.  I love the fact that
he’s the only NBA player routinely diving on the floor for
loose balls, game in and game out.  I love his high-arching,
soft-dropping, how’d-he-do-that? finishes in heavy traffic. 
And I love how a 5’11” guy can go out, on any given night,
and hang a quadruple-double on any given team while
playing with about 18 assorted injuries.  Just a freak of
nature, and one of the NBA's all-time greats.  (Sorry...I had
to get that off my chest.)

8:51 — The Pacers manage to end the 3rd quarter with a
three-point lead, mainly due to Carlisle’s decision to play
Fred Jones at the point.

(I’m running out of time here, or else I’d give my whole
rambling Fred-Jones-is-the-key-to-this-Pacers-team
speech.  Some other time.)

9:01 — Reggie hits his second three in the last two minutes.  Each was a huge shot. 
(I’m also not going to get into the whole should-he-retire? debate.  But not because of time restraints.  I just don't want to spend an eternity in Basketball Hell.  He will
leave when He is ready.)    

9:27 —The Pacers have let the Sixers back into the game with a combination of shaky defense and some horrible shots on offense.  Worse yet, Stephen Jackson just Shaq-Diesel’d two free-throws that would have all but iced the game.  Now there’s 17 seconds left and the Sixers are down one with the ball.  Here comes “A.I. at the Buzzer, Part II.”

9:29 — The Sixers didn’t run the ol’ picket fence…but the entire Pacers defense just got caught watching the paint dry nonetheless.  The White Tito Jackson, who has missed exactly two 12-footers in his entire lifetime, was just left alone to hit another one to give Philly the lead.  Damn.

Hold on.  Hold the phone.  Maybe it was worth it.  Maybe it was worth it in order to hear the PA system at the Wachovia Center blaring “Play That Funky Music, White Boy” after Korver hit the shot.  I'm being dead serious...this isn't a joke.  Yet I'm almost in disbelief myself.  Can this really be happening?  It can't be.  That would be like the Marine Band playing “Hail to the Chief” as George W. enters the room, only to break into "Swing Low Sweet Chariot" or “Back Dat Thang Up” when Condoleeza Rice walks in right behind him.  The federal legal system would instantly shut down due to the filing of 8.2 million simultaneous lawsuits.  But I digress.  There are seven seconds left in the game.  Still time. 

9:31 — For what seems like the 26th time this season, the Pacers find themselves needing a last-second bucket to win the game.  And for what seems like the 26th time this season, the Pacers fail to get it.  Game over.  Sixers win. 

And here’s the most troubling (non-Paetz-related) realization from this game: the Pacers, for whatever reason, are not winning these close games like they did last year.  It used to be that those last-second scenarios almost always ended positively for the Pacers, whether they needed a basket or a stop.  This year, it's a different story.  A different, less-mentally-tough, 7th-in-the-Eastern-Conference story.

And that's really all I gotta say. 
An Overdue Pacers Article
Roy: I got somethin’ I gotta say. 

Devon: Better make it quick, son.

Roy: I figured it’s time we started writing about the Pacers again.

[A few claps and some coughing are heard throughout the Flipside offices]

Speedway:  I told you, once we got rid of HIM!!! [pointing to a dilapidated poster of Greg Dreiling]

Roy: Just one thing, though: I’d still rather watch an Indiana Fever layup line than Stacey Paetz.  That hasn’t changed.

Devon:  [Ripping up some paper and throwing the pieces into the air]  It’s settled then!  A Pacers article it is!
—Transcript from the weekly Flipside staff meeting
(January 31, 2005)
Kyle Korver, a
sassier version of the Grizzlies' Mike Miller.
Maybe Spinks should have stayed with the "Bald Bull's" and "Flamingo Don's" of the boxing world before challenging "Iron Mike."
Notice the non-no-look bounce pass. 
An Overdue Pacers Article