Josh McRoberts: NBA Bound !

So after two unsuccessful years at Duke, Josh McRoberts is going to try his luck in the NBA. He's following a long and successful tradition of Duke guys leaving early to get into the League ...

Here is what I don't get. Why leave a college basketball scene where you are borderline dominant, an icon on campus and a chance for a national championship for mid-level dollars and the title of "role player" for the rest of your career.

There is no shot he's a star in the NBA. (See: Shavlik Randolph, Cherokee Parks, Chris Carrawell, William Avery, JJ Redick, Trajan Langdon) He could be a starter for a weaker team with a me-first point guard, and hope he gets enough offensive boards and put-backs to warrant a roster spot for the next season. But Shaq will abuse him. Amare will abuse him. Oden will abuse him. Garnett will abuse him. Yao will abuse him. Hell, Michael Oliwakandi will abuse this guy ...

The sad thing is, Duke would've returned all five starters - something that personally scared the shit out of me - and been a top-10 team. Now? They'll rely even more on a shaky shooter and a weak ball-handler, and will get absolutely dominated by Tyler Hansbrough and UNC for the next two years - unless Gerald Henderson takes the next step and just shoots him in the face or something.

Best of luck to you, though, Josh. Seriously. Here's hoping Laettner buys a team so he can draft you, trade for Redick and Shav and assemble a true dynasty in the NBA. Get yourself a double-wide, kid; you earned !

Greg Oden's Diary : Entry # 3

Dear Diary: Just wanted to put a picture in here of how big my penis is around ... For the ladies, you know?

For real, though, I got some serious shit to talk about, and his name is Kevin Durant. You know, Kevin "I'm Not in the Sweet Sixteen" Durant. That guy. That guy that's fucking with my motherfucking NBA money. The Celtics got fined for calling him? Why? They need a dark toothpick? I was rooting for Texas; I really was. I wanted them to get into the Final Four so I could show the world who deserves that money, playboy. I'm playing with one hand! Do you not understand that shit? Durant, seriously, give me player of the year trophy, bro, and you won't get hurt. Did you see the foul I put on that fool against Xavier?

You wanna know why the O did that? Because he could. I could snap my fingers and cause a tsunami in Asia. I could flap my arms and fly around the world, shitting on people I didn't like. I could dunk on Jesus Christ - in Heaven - with four fouls on me. The world is mine. They're re-naming the school The O-Den State University. The mascot will be a scaled-down replica of my hand - so it'll fit in the building - and it will just stand there, staring at you the whole game. Whoever is lucky enough to be in that costume will get more ass than Kevin Durant, Tyler Hansbrough and whoever that white dude from Pitt is combined. MY HAND, SON! MY HAND!

I wish someone would build a time machine. I saw this movie, "Back to the Future," and I didn't get it because I don't know how you can go back to the future, if the future is in front of you ... But anyway, that's not the point. I need one of them cars, on 26's, so I can go back and dunk on Kareem, block Bill Russell's shot and just abuse Bill Walton in the post. Wilt the Stilt? He gonna need crutches when I get done with him. Shaq is my boy (I loved "Kazaam!") but for real, he best retire before I spin past him in the lane and cross his eyes; dude'll look like Stuart Scott and Rebecca Lobo had a baby when I'm done with him.

Elite Eight is up next. Do you get CBS, Durant? I may eat a Longhorn for dinner before the game. No, not AT Longhorn's. I'm going to eat A Longhorn. With some corn on the cob, bitches.

ODEN OUT!

It's Like My Dreams Came True ...

First of all, doesn't Jon Scheyer look like a post-fight Ivan Drago?

It happened. Dook lost to a mid-major in the first round. It really is a dream come true for me. I feel like Martin Luther King Jr. post-"I Have A Dream." I feel like George Washington post-sticking it to England. I feel like Ghandi post-fasting. I feel like Jesus Christ post-Ressurection. I feel like Tommy Lee post-leaking the sex video with Pam Anderson. I feel like Rosa Parks post-not getting up from that bus seat.

Watching a humbled Coach K post-game, I almost masturbated. (I was fully erect, don't get me wrong.)

The solemn faces of those Blue Devils as they realized they'd lost to a mid-major ... Priceless. I'm going to frame them individually, but only after going to a store and having them made into a really nice wallpaper I can decorate my bedroom with. A crying Greg Paulus will be the thing I think of when I watch "The Sound of Music" and they sing the song about when the dog bites and when the bee stings ... (You know that you know it ...) The out-stretched arms of DeMarcus Nelson (PS, Mr. and Mrs. Nelson: You didn't like Marcus, you didn't like Dennis, but you thought, hell, together; that's a name?) and Scheyer getting shot over by my new favorite college basketball player, Eric Maynor (replacing Timmy Smith and the coked out dude from the 'Nova team that beat Pat Ewing and that unstoppable Georgetown team.)

My hope? That this is the catalyst to Coach K bolting for the NBA. That out of pure embarrrassment, Josh McRoberts enters the NBA Draft (and goes undrafted like super-stud Shavlik Randolph). I hope that all the McDonald's All-Americans commited to Duke change their mind ... I hope the court is re-named "Guy Who Hasn't Gotten Past The Sweet Sixteen Five of the Past Six Years Court." I hope that Jay Bilas never picks them again in a big game. I pray to VCU that Dick Vitale retires, and gets a water-front townhouse with Krzyzewski, where they have lots of unprotected sex and give each other HIV, and then AIDS and - just to top it off - really gross Herpes ...

It's not all ice cream and cocoa puffs, though. Usually when I was trying to eke out a few extra minutes in bed with the ladies, I thought of Coach K. I thought of Christian Laettner hitting that shot. I thought of JJ Redick's and Jay Williams' and - if I was really desperate - Shelden Williams' faces. But now? I'll probably finish a lot quicker because of this.

By the way, the State Farm commercial with "Coach K vs. Coach Jay" ... Pure gold. Write a book about this one, you rat-looking SOB.

Greg Oden's Diary: Entry # 2

Dear Diary:

Tournament time, bitches. The O gots himself a Big Ten Championship, but you know the man wants a NCAA bling-ring-on his pinky fing. And then, I want the WWE Title. I could probably beat that Russian dude for the heavyweight title, too.

For real, though; is Wisconsin even a real team? It's like, "Double-double for Oden, cheese and fat chicks for Wisconsin." I dominate the Big Ten, just like my "Big Ten" dominates the ladies, playboy. There was some funky chickens hanging outside the hotel for the tournament, I cannot WAIT for them NBA shorties, yo. I be swattin' tig ol' bitties like I be swattin' fools shots every night.

Man, I tried to Google this team we're opening against. Central Coneticut. It kept saying "no results." Where's Coneticut anyway? It don't matter. Only places matter are THE Ohio State, THE Oden's Den and THE city that drafts me. 16 seed never beat a 1 seed, and you bet your ass it ain't happenin' on the O's watch. I might go for 50/50/50/50 night - 50 points, 50 boards, 50 blocks - and 50 BJ's, son!

Coneticut, watch yo ass, Oden want a sandwich.

ODEN OUT!