Mike Bianchi, You Are A F--king Loser

You are not worthy to suck Nixon's cock.

I don’t read the newspaper very much anymore since they moved “The Family Circus” off the front page. But every so often, some asshole sends me something some other asshole wrote over the Internet.

And this one’s good. Oh, it’s good.

And by good I mean fucking abysmal.

That smeared shit over there is Mike Bianchi. He wrote this. It sucks more than Adam Morrison.

One more chance for the Magic.

One more game at the Am.

One last Star Spangled song by little incandescent Gina Incandela.

One more time with this and I shit on your Shih Tzu, then mail it to Michael Vick.

Oh, say can we see … another Magic miracle?

1) No. 2) How dare you fuck with the fucking national anthem? You work for a paper in a town that has EPCOT. You are why the terrorists hate us.

Wouldn’t it only be fitting in this wild and wacky season of Magic wins and Dwight Howard grins if this team and town experienced the greatest comeback in NBA history?

Oh, I see, you used Magic to mean magic. Go fuck yourself with a rusty tent stake. Sports aren’t won by people who smile; they’re won by goddamn fucking closers like my boy KB24.

The Magic, as they enter tonight’s final home game of the season at Amway Arena, are down 3-1 to the Los Angeles Lakers — a deficit that has never been conquered in the 62-year history of the NBA Finals. But, then again, has there ever been such a confoundingly and resoundingly resilient team than pugnacious coach Stan Van Gundy’s chip-on-their-shoulder Magic?

Oh, yeah, resilient. That’s why you rolled over faster than Alexis Texas in those two overtimes.

This is a team that has thrived on doubt and discredit throughout the playoffs.

Actually, insanely good three-point shooting and weak interior defense. But thanks for the alliteration, asshole.

Now they have the Lakers right where they want them.

No, they wanted to be up 4-0 at this point. Every fucking team in the history of sports has wanted to win every game. No team has ever wanted to be down. This ain’t dinosaur rocketry, Mikey.

Nobody, except for a few die-hards and the Magic themselves, believes this team can rally back against one of the greatest franchises, greatest players (Kobe Bryant) and greatest coaches (Phil Jackson) in NBA history.

This fucker ate Kirstie Alley.

And they shouldn’t. Because they won’t. Also, no Magic die-hards exist, because all seven Magic fans are 81 and will die flaccid. (Get it? I don’t give a shit.) I’ve been a Los Angeles Laker fan since 2002, and I can tell you: Magic fans hopped on and off the bandwagon like it’s fucking Splash Mountain.

Dwight Howard, the team’s dominating, dynamic center, says there is no doubt the Magic will win today and take this series back to the West Coast for Games 6 and 7.

When a hometown writer asks whether he is actually guaranteeing a victory, Howard smiles and says: “I believe we’re going back to L.A., and you should, too. You’re from Orlando.”

I would say mass psychosis is a symptom of kryptonite poisioning, but Superman is the stupidest fucking nickname since Mickael Pietrus being called “Air France.” Shaq had it, and Shaq also has a low post game. Dwight Howard calls “Finding Nemo” one of his favorite movies.

Honestly, I have serious doubts whether the Magic can come back and win this series, but there’s no doubting this: Whether they do or don’t, this team’s Magical mystery tour through the playoffs has been a blast and boon for Orlando.

“Magical mystery tour” would imply that, maybe, it isn’t clear how this happened. Well, they won games. That’s not mysterious; it’s obvious. And here’s a list of things that would be blast and boon for Orlando:

1. Outbreak of Ebola.
2. Free dentures for everyone.
3. J.J. Redick coming out at Gay Days.
4. Hydrogen bomb.
5. All of that happening at once.

During the last couple of years as we considered whether to build a new arena for the team, there has been much disagreement and debate about the Magic’s value to the community. In the last few weeks, those doubts have been washed away in a wave of incredible excitement and international exposure.

God, you people really fucking love Hedo Turkogay.

“Go Magic” signs have popped up like wayward weeds in the yards of foreclosed homes.

That’s actually vandalism, not civic pride.

More than 4,000 new season tickets have been ordered since the playoffs began. Downtown businesses have been boosted and so has civic morale.

Orlando has a downtown. Huh. Never got past Rachel’s Steakhouse, myself.

Even the tourism industry, which is mostly funding the new arena, is getting its money’s worth. USA Today ran a huge headline on the front of its Finals special section: “Disney World vs. Disneyland.”

And no one read it. Because it was in the sports section. And who would fucking read that shit when they wanted sports?

Disney-owned ABC, which is televising the Finals, is promoting the City Beautiful’s attractions and attractiveness and beaming it to 215 countries and a billion viewers across the globe.

Other teams that have been to the NBA Finals and broadcast internationally this decade: Detroit, Cleveland, East Rutherford, and Indianapolis. Wanna go there, assholes?

The first four games of the Finals have been the most-watched shows in prime time since the American Idol finale in May.

Congratulations. You couldn’t even beat this gay guy with the help of Pau Gasol’s swarthy good looks.

“You can’t buy this sort of exposure,” Magic Chief Operating Officer Alex Martins says.

Yes. You can. That’s why you pay Rashard Lewis $119 million, why you give Dwight Howard $85 million, why you throw a fucking Lilliputian with a jump shot whatever it costs to keep him in platform Nikes. You buy this exposure by spending money on a successful team and it promotes itself. It’s science.

Every time you open the newspaper or turn on the TV, it’s Magic mania. And did you see where somebody put a blue Magic T-shirt on that replica Statue of Liberty down by Lake Ivanhoe? And I was walking my dog the other morning when I passed the same lady I’ve been passing nearly every morning for the last three years. We usually just nod and smile. This time, she gave a little fist pump and said, “Go, Magic.”

Someone put a T-shirt on a replica Statue of Liberty near something called “Lake Ivanhoe”? Wake me up when you’re not gay.

Also, you and that woman are what we Lakers fans refer to as “douchebags.” Have a fucking authentic conversation sometime.

This is the power and magnetism of professional sports. This city — so transient and diverse — desperately needed a common cause, something to unify and galvanize it. From the pristine shores of the lakes of Windermere to the graffiti-scrawled walls in Parramore, everybody in town has been a little giddier and a little gabbier during the playoffs.

Things that “unify and galvanize” cities for extended periods of time also include race riots and game shows starring people led by the power of destiny. Good job lucking into this shit.

It’s like the old Lovin’ Spoonful song they play at the arena during timeouts:

Lovin’ Spoonful? You use the people who did this as stadium music? God, if you are reading this, don’t save these people.

“And it’s magic, if the music is groovy,

It makes you feel happy like an old-time movie.”

Also true: If a song has ever been covered by Aly and AJ, whatever the hell that is/are/was/could be, DO NOT FUCKING USE IT AT SPORTING EVENTS.

Hey, we all need a little happiness during these times when our property values are plunging and our stress level is rising; when the kids’ elementary school is out of money and Mommy and Daddy are out of work. No, this Magic championship run doesn’t solve our problems, but it might make us forget about them for a few weeks, a few days or even a few hours.

This is why marijuana was invented. Legalize it and no one will have to see Redick ever again. (Note: I tried this once before, but I made the mistake of trying to return the motherfucker.)

“This is what sports are supposed to do,” Magic General Manager Otis Smith says. “Take your mind off your grind.”

Oh, look, a rhyme.

One more chance for the Magic.

One last song for little Gina.

One final game at the Am.

Princess Majesty is in the box. I did not punch airholes.

“It’s the last home game,” Howard says. “We want to give our fans a good show.”

So I’m assuming the fans asked for a Hindenburg-style catastrophe in Game 4? If so, good job. Dicksmack.

Not to worry, Dwight.

No matter whether you win or lose tonight, you already have.

How sweet and touching and gay. Lakers by four trillion.

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