Tonight marks the first of several mini-heart attacks, high blood pressure scares, and broken glasses if Derek Fisher does something like this, again. It’s the start of a new NBA season bitches baby! I can finally stop pretending I give a damn about the NFL and baseball and get back to my first love, albeit my relationship with the NBA has faltered over the years.

 

For the first time in a long, long, time, almost six years now (if it seems like I’m talking about a drug addiction, my love for the Lakers in the Shaq/Kobe era was that strong) I’m excited about watching a Lakers game. I know, I can’t believe it either. Don’t get too bothered by my change of heart though, because it’s not really a change of heart at all. I still loathe the Lakers no doubt. The only reason I’m looking forward to this season is because Ron Artest is in town.  Artest will add depth to the Lakers squad, but not without channeling his inner Dennis Rodman, sans the cross dressing, and Rasheeeeeeeed Wallace. If you can’t tell already, I love crazy eccentric ball players.

 

Back in September when Los Angeles Times sports writer, Bill Plaschke wrote about Artest not knowing that San Diego was in Southern California, I knew I couldn’t miss a Lakers game this season:

Not only did he not realize there was a baseball team in San Diego, he didn’t even know San Diego was in San Diego. Asked about all the Lakers fans who greeted his visit, he said he was surprised. “I thought I was going to be getting some Golden State Warriors fans, because I didn’t know where I was at,” he said.

 

Call me a band wagoner, but I’ve already made it clear to some of my friends who are die-hard Lakers stans that I’d be willing to root for their team again under two conditions:

 

1) Artest must lose his mind and bitch slap back hand Kobe Bryant during practice or a regular game.

 

2) The bitch slap back hand has to be caught on tape.

 

If these two things occur I’ll take back every foul thing I’ve said about the Lakers and will try my hardest to become a Hollywood type, high strung, vandalizing, lighting the city on fire, oversensitive fan again.  I would even dig my old Lakers’ flag out of the closest and possibly purchase three more just so I could look like the rest of the poor souls in LA who do stupid stuff like paint their Cadillacs purple and gold.

 

Since Artest has already proved capable of going WWE on a fan, I know it won’t be long before he and Kobe are at each others throats. If all goes according to plan, I should be a reluctant Lakers fan by the new year.

 

I’ll admit to growing tired of rooting against the home team so I all but decided to go hard for the Clippers at the end of last season. That was until Blake Griffin broke his kneecap on Friday and confirmed their is some truth to a #1 1st round pick jinx, and more likely, The Clippers pissed off God something terrible. That squad stays on Jesus’, Allah, Buddha, Krishna’s poo poo list.

 

I don’t want no parts of that bad karma so my heart will have to remain with The Big Witness Protection Program and follow him wherever he goes. I’ve spent the last month or two contemplating whether or not I should pay my car tagsgo broke and purchase the Direct TV NBA League pass. I don’t want to miss a game of what might be Shaq’s last season. Not only that, but the opportunity to watch my all time favorite team up with the next in line to gain my adoration, is too ‘once in a lifetime’ for me to pass up.

 

 

 

With Shaq and King James together, Cleveland has officially reached rock star status. I’m sure Chris Brown is somewhere really regretting Chris Brownin’ Rihanna because even Ri-Ri won’t be able to pass up getting face time on the Cavs sidelines. Expect Spike Lee, Jay Z, and more Hollywood ilk at every game. Guaranteed media hysteria till next May. I can not wait.

 

And for all my folk who watch the games for the side-show shenanigans, best believe the Proper Talks Shallow Girl’s Guide to the NBAwill return this season, hopefully before the playoffs. There are lots of new eye-candy itching to fall victim to the PT hottie point system. I’m convinced the guide is worth cash monies. I might just patent that sucka.

 

All in all, the upcoming season should be full of shit talking and all around fun.

 

Now excuse me as I set my DVR to TNT. I’m so excited about watching Charles Barkley struggle to say “athletic” (it usually sounds something like at-the-et-let-tic-ah) and concoct  infamous quotables.

Tags: A Shallow Girl's Guide, Cleveland Cavaliers, Confessions of an Ex-Lakers fan, Kobe Bryant, NBA, Ron Artest, Shaquille O'Neal