The Minnesota Timberwolves were eliminated from the playoffs on April 29, and with that 114-106 loss to Memphis, we thought all aspects of the T-Wolves franchise would be gone until next season. For those of us who enjoy Anthony Edwards putting guys on posters and stupid fouls from Karl Anthony-Towns, it was a mildly sad day. If there was a way to sprinkle in an Ant dunk or a needless KAT reach-in foul during the subsequent rounds, I’d be all for letting Minnesota linger.
However, the only yelps from the Timberwolves’ season echoing through these playoffs are a bunch of nonsensical claims from Patrick Beverley, and an allegedly affable moment from part-owner Alex Rodriguez — if it’s even possible for something that A-Rod does to qualify as affable. Normally, I don’t advocate for putting down members of the canine family, but in this case, I think we can safely say let the pound do its job because holy fuck are these guys insufferable.
Other than injuring prominent point guards, being injured himself, or over-inflating his importance to a team under-performing, Beverley’s most defining characteristic is talking a bunch of shit like he’s some sort of Gary Payton-type figure. However, unlike the Glove, I don’t think people, save for a few ESPN producers, find Bev’s act endearing; spouting hot garbage to get a rise out of an audience is more verified Twitter troll than informative First Take guest.
During his stint in the hot seat opposite Stephen A. Smith this week, he took shots at Chris Paul and Deandre Ayton, said Philly needs to give James Harden the max, forgot Jonathan Kuminga’s name, yelled at Stephen A. To “get off the weed,” lobbied for a spot on the Lakers if he was a free agent, and pushed for LeBron James to join Minnesota.
Forgive me if I don’t have time for an often-hurt player — who makes more headlines with his mouth than his play — hopping on ESPN and trying to act like he’s some sort of locker room leader/NBA aficionado. I hesitate to say no one likes Pat Bev because he’s still an active player, so in theory some fans of the team that employs him enjoy his particular brand of claptrap.
Give Wolves fans another season or two of Beverley’s act, and they’ll be pleading with the team to move on from his antics. I don’t know if anyone will ever be prepared for his retirement, though, because when he fulfills his destiny as a full-time take artist we’re going to miss the days when the only time we heard from him was during an early-round playoff exit or during spot duty on First Take after one.
I can’t figure out why A-Rod continues his pursuit of personality. He’s basically Ahab, and likability is Moby Dick. I don’t know how charisma will kill the captain in this analogy, but here’s to hoping he slips up on a hot mic during his KayRod-type Manningcast like Peyton did during Monday Night Football. Only instead of a harmless “I can’t hear shit” miscue, it’s some kind of cancelable remark.
Rodriguez’s latest attempt to get people not to dry heave when they see him — showing up courtside at the Footprint Center in pre-ripped jeans and a pair of Jordans with alleged new girlfriend Kathryne Padgett for Game 7 of Suns-Mavs — felt as hollow as his friendship with Derek Jeter. Cameras caught him taking a siesta on the sidelines, and who can’t relate to drifting off into dreamland during a blowout?
The issue isn’t whether it was justified — I turned off that game and flipped on the Playstation once it got out of hand — but rather why he was there at all. He doesn’t own a piece of either team, and he’s got no discernible ties to the Phoenix area.
I guess he’s simply a hoops fan with enough money to waste on front row tickets but not enough of an attention span to stay awake during the game, or listen to his girlfriend. The word I most readily associate with A-Rod is “schmuck,” and no amount of rebranding will ever de-schmuck his personality.
I would say never change, A-Rod, but fucking A, man, anything is better than this.