Free Darko Playoff Pants Party: Heat Vs. Bulls

With last night's wrapup of the regular season, the playoff matchups are set. There are eight conference quarterfinal contests, and the whole shebang kicks off this Saturday.

Because we feel that no one understands the NBA more like the way we wish we understood the NBA than the gang at Free Darko, we've asked them to write up previews of every playoff series throughout the postseason. It will help us understand what's at stake in each series, what matters, what it means for the individuals involved, their fanbases and their history. And there will also be funny, bizarre, non-linear photographs.

After the jump, our next playoff preview, the series between the Miami Heat and the Chicago Bulls. It's a rematch of last year's playoff battle, and it's clear that the Bulls would rather not be here. (The Wizards are looking rather appetizing right now.) If you want to hop in with your predictions in the comments, please do. Because we type about sports, and people expect it, our prediction is Bulls in 7.

And now, Dr. Lawyer IndianChief, from Free Darko, after the jump. Enjoy.

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I started writing this in my South Chicago apartment as it caught fire, and I might as well have kept writing until the damn thing burnt down. NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO PLAY. Dwyane Wade is coming to town, and he has people from Oak Lawn to Robbins. Chris Quinn's Notre Dame frat brethren are downing Car Bombs over at Poag Mahone's. James Posey is saving up money to pay for his Flagrant-2's, and this time he's a bit tipsy. Of course, the dude in the building that NOBODY in Chicagoland wants to talk about right now is The Daddy. Shaquille O'Neal still has some pre-2006 Larry Brown-related issues to work out regarding Ben Wallace poking and prodding all up in his midsection on the way to two consecutive finals appearances. Because Flip Saunders didn't give Wallace his proper burn during last year's Pistons-Heat series, Shaq feels like he didn't get that real-deal payback, that sensation of slamming a four-time defensive player of the year to the ground. So, if Ben Wallace is listening, then I'm saying it loud and clear: Now is your time. You spent the year brooding, missing your friends in Detroit, looking for people in the locker-room that you could discuss Sade with and wondering why you were surrounded by guys born after the Space Shuttle Challenger exploded. You were unapproachable to teammates who played at better colleges than you did but who look up to you anyway. You had back pain. You watched the Chris Webber situation unfold and wondered if you could sulk your way on to a different team. You looked in the mirror, asking yourself if Tyson Chandler has better abs than you. Now you can earn that big contract. You can make John Paxson look like he knew what he was doing all along, and you can solidify your legend in Chicago.

Big Ben came out firing a lot of big words at Bulls media day back in October. He talked about showing what he could do offensively, wanting to prove doubters (including former coach Saunders) wrong about his deficiencies on the offensive end and letting people know that he hasn't lost a step on D. All that chatter amounted to a lot of missed free throws and many underwhelmed Bulls fans. Now is one of those special moments — just like when Cat Stevens nearly prayed to God to save him from drowning — that a man can seize on all that is before him, and alter his life course while inspiring people in the process. Of course, Big Ben vs. Shaq is not the lone storyline. For one, the Bulls' frontline is more than just Wallace-deep. P.J. Brown is Louisiana levee-tough. Mike Sweetney is "well-rested." Martynas Andriuskevicius is seemingly still on the roster. Secondly, Shaq is ultimately going to get his points. I expect a cage match in the post and a dogfight on the perimeter, where Kirk Hinrich and Ben Gordon are going to give Dwyane Wade (at 68 percent) and the banged up trio of Gary Payton, Jason Williams, and Eddie Jones a little more speed than they can handle. With these frontcourt/backcourt matchups essentially balancing each other out, the series must therefore be won in the spheres that are difficult to define, the absence of space, the trigonometry of a higher mental plane. I am of course referring to Chicago's dual Gobots, Tyrus Thomas and Luol Deng.

Luol Deng, the Bulls' team MVP provides too much versatility for the monolithic Udonis Haslem and the perpetually satisfied Antoine Walker. Next to Tracy McGrady, Deng was the most underappreciated do-it-all player of the 2006-07 season. While most pundits gawked at Dirk ("CAN YOU BELIEVE A SEVEN FOOT WHITE PLAYER IS STEPPING BACK TO SHOOT THE THREE?"), Deng combined the efficiency of Krzyewski-ball, the formalism of a South London upbringing and a variety of moves carried out with the pastoral serenity of the Sudanese Dinka tribe. Simply, Deng is an extremely tough matchup for the Heat, and the world will soon know his name. Whereas Luol Deng embodies controlled chaos, Tyrus Thomas defines chaos in its purest form. Just saying the word "bracket" around Thomas gets his heart pumping Absinthe and increases his cognitive engagement to the point of instinctual telepathy. Thomas knows his next move before understanding what that next move really means. We saw him enter the season with a composed arrogance that has not waned throughout mild injuries, rookie struggles, fines and scrutiny for his expressed dunk contest apathy, Scott Skiles' mindgames and staccato transitions from 12th man to starter and back. Thomas recognizes the magnitude of the stage, and the role to which he is assigned. With Deng allowed to freelance, and Thomas as his understudy, the Bulls should prove too energetic for the Heat, causing Pat Riley's Irish eyes to glaze over, while wondering in which tropical location Bill Cowher is currently posted up.