back to school

The kids went back to school today. My oldest starts 4th grade. I can't believe he's turning 10 in a few months. He continues to be an avid reader and has shown a recent interest in learning how to golf. I hope to be able to get him lessons. That would be such a fun thing to be able to do together with him throughout the years. Since he's so much like his father, I also hope he has the patience and humility to actually learn to play, instead of following the path I did in which I was sure I knew how to play after several minutes instruction. My middle son starts 2nd grade. This makes it easier on my wife, as both of the boys now are finished with school at the same time, whereas previously the younger one would get out an hour earlier. He was very excited this morning and I'm sure will do well. He is a diligent worker and makes friends easily. His teachers typically adore him. My little angel starts school as well, beginning her daily pre-K at the Methodist church across the street from our home. She is very excited. She is such a sweet little thing, always wanting to help out around the home. She spoils her daddy. I am so lucky to have such wonderful kids. They've been so patient with me and my quest for higher education. We spend quality time together every day. They teach me so much about life and about myself. I'm so glad that all of my kids question my decisions and call me out when I'm not treating them as well as I should. My goal as a parent has always been to raise independent children who think and act for themselves and allow them to make decisions on their own, learning lessons along the way. I hope that my children and I will continue to have a good relationship as they approach and enter their teen years so that we can rationally discuss the torrents of life and make sound decisions based on reason together. This of course is the best-case scenario, but as a realist I hope to be somewhere close to that. By fostering their independence and teaching life lessons along the way, with rewards for obedience and work well done, instilling in them a strong work ethic, they can see for themselves the way to an abundant life. Most of the credit for the amazing children I have lands fully on my dear wife. She is an amazing mother whose kindness and compassion are unparalleled. Together, we make a great team. I'm so fortunate to be able to spend my life with her.

Beckham, welcome to America. America, welcome to soccer.

During the summer of 2006, I spent a considerable amount of time watching the soccer world cup. It was the first time since watching the Africa cup of nations tournament in 1996, while at the time I was living in The Republic of South Africa, that I had really watched soccer. The Africa cup of nations had a profound effect on me at the time. I grew to not only appreciate, but also really like soccer. It certainly helped that I was living and working among black South Africans, watching the love they had for their team, playing with them in the dirt fields of their townships, and then joining in the celebrations that ensued upon South Africa’s championship run. The jubilation was more than anything I had experienced sports related. Everyone was happy. You see, I grew up in Northern and then Central California in the 80s and early 90s as a die-hard San Francisco 49ers fan. I knew the thrill that came from seeing my team win the ultimate prize on multiple occasions. If you’re a frequent reader of my blogs, you’ll also quickly realize that I’m a huge Los Angeles Lakers fan, meaning that I have seen my share of championship basketball runs. Additionally, for the past four years I’ve been living in Miami and have seen the city celebrate both a World Series title and an NBA championship. Although I’m not a fan of these teams, the atmosphere in a city where a championship has been won is palpable. That said, it was nothing compared to being in South Africa when Bafana bafana (the nickname given to the team) won the Africa cup of nations. The world cup last year rekindled my passion for soccer. I loved the games. I started playing pickup soccer again on Saturday mornings. I even chose an English Premier League (EPL) team (Tottenham Hotspur) and followed them closely, via the Internet and Fox Soccer Channel, during last season.

While watching the world cup last year, I selected some favorites to follow. Of course, the United States topped my list. Unfortunately, they were quite disappointing. They were clearly out of their league. I also chose to cheer for Germany, the country my ancestors once lived, Argentina, the country that many of my dear friends are from, and England, if only because I knew that some of the best soccer in the world is played there. Watching Germany play the opening game of the tournament against Costa Rica and score four goals, one of which was one of the most beautiful goals I’ve ever seen (Torsten Frings’ rocket from about 40 yards out), I was immediately hooked. It was fun to see Germany go on and place third. It was fun to watch the Argentines appear to dance with the ball, almost as if they were stars in a musical. They play beautiful soccer. Watching England, who was ultimately also a bit disappointing, was good, but mainly for one reason – David Beckham. Nearly every good thing that England did in the world cup last summer was a result of something he did. His passing is superb. His free kicks are legendary. I remember hearing that he was washed up and past his prime, but after seeing him play, thinking that he was still an amazing player.

This brings us to why I chose this time to reminisce about last years world cup. David Beckham is now playing for the Los Angeles Galaxy, which plays in Major League Soccer (MLS), America’s version of the EPL. Now, I freely admit to watching several MLS games and being VERY unimpressed. After following the world cup closely last summer, then a full season of EPL, the MLS is very second rate, and possibly third or fourth rate. If you’re familiar with Major League Baseball, I would place the MLS around the AA level when compared with the EPL. With Beckham playing for the Galaxy, I must admit that my curiosity got the best of me and I decided to give watching another attempt. The other night, I saw Beckham’s first start, in a super liga match against another MLS team, DC United. This DC United team, as far as I understand, is one of the better MLS teams and had quite handily beaten the Galaxy just a few weeks prior. With Beckham on the field however, the team played well. Beckham scored his first goal as a member of the Galaxy with one of his famous free kicks, then followed that up with a precision pass to a streaking Landon Donovan to put the Galaxy up 2-0, which would be the final score. His intensity and energy were apparent early and often and seemed to be an inspiration to his teammates. His aggressive play even earned him a yellow card, exhibiting even more of his competitive fire.

I’m not naïve enough to think that somehow, David Beckham will bring soccer to a level that could rival the NFL, MLB, or the NBA, but I do think that he will be good for soccer in this country. He will definitely show Americans how elite soccer is played. He may even inspire others to come here and raise the competitive level of the MLS to at least be respectable to the rest of the world. To David Beckham, I say welcome to America. Here is one American who is very glad that you’re here. To America, I say welcome to soccer. It is a fantastic sport that truly captivates the rest of the world. Getting acquainted with soccer will be easier when we are able to watch a master, David Beckham, at work in our own backyard.

Go Barry Go

Saturday, Barry Bonds tied what has been called the most hallowed record in sports history. Against the team that had given up more of his home runs than any other, Bonds blasted his 755th home run to left-center field in Petco Park in the 2nd inning against Clay Hensley. Although Bonds has a mountain of circumstantial evidence pointing to use of performance enhancing drugs, he has vehemently denied knowingly taking steroids and thus far his tests have been clean. In a twist of irony, Hensley in fact was suspended 15 games in April 2005 for steroid use as a minor leaguer. Commissioner Bud Selig was on hand to witness the historic home run and responded with disgrace. Bud was asked to stand up, and grudgingly did so and pointedly thrust his hands into his pockets without a hint of applause, exhibiting his displeasure with an unsurprising passive-aggressive gesture.

As this event comes to a climax in the next few games when Barry hits his 756th home run to overtake Henry Aaron, the talking heads and pundits that typically write about these things will take umbrage that such a hallowed record can be surpassed in a cloud of suspicion. You will hear much about asterisks, steroid fueled recovery, the reaction of the commissioner, the reaction of Homerin Hank, the stuffy baseball writers debating whether or not Barry should go to the Hall of Fame, but what you will not hear is a tribute to the greatest baseball player ever, Barry Bonds. I want to pay a meager tribute to him now. Meager because I am no one anyone in baseball will take seriously, not because of the man I want to honor.

I must preface by declaring that I am a San Francisco Giants fan and have been since I was a young boy watching games in chilly Candlestick Park. I will not dazzle you with statistical knowledge because I don’t have any, but I do know that Barry Bonds is the most feared hitter in his lifetime, possibly ever. He has been walked, intentionally or not, more times than I have ever seen. I also know that he is confident and doesn’t have much patience for the media. I don’t know how much patience I would have if I were hounded day in and day out either. He could even be described as moody, surly, and temperamental, as many of us can be described on occasion. Does he have his faults? Of course. Does he seem a bit immature at times? Yes, but again, how many grown men do you know that don’t act immature at times? Barry should be every mans hero, but he isn’t. Why not?

The easy, although I say the incorrect answer, is suspected steroid use. The cry of “he cheated!” resonates, but as a society do we really care about cheating? Cheating is rampant in this nation, from college exams to shady business deals. This does not excuse it, but softens the issue for many. When San Diego Chargers linebacker Shawne Merriman was suspended for 4 weeks last season for steroid use, the only negativity expressed was because fans couldn’t wait for him to return to the field. And what really constitutes a performance-enhancing drug? Only recently “greenies” were outlawed (and also until recently it wasn’t again baseball rules to use steroids), the amphetamines many ball players, including a great like Mike Schmidt, would take to get through a double header and they were arguable enhancing performance. What about the cortisone shot Kurt Gibson got just before his famous home run in the playoffs years ago. If that drug didn’t “enhance performance” by allowing him to walk to the plate when he previously wasn’t able to, then I don’t know what performance enhancing is. The feigned outrage expressed is said to be about cheating and about steroids, but if you really get down to it, it is neither of these reasons. The bottom line is people don’t like Barry Bonds and are vilifying him. He is being used as a scapegoat for the rampant use of steroids by many baseball players, but this is not because people are upset with steroid use; it is a convenient way to express displeasure with the man many don’t like who is breaking the most hallowed record in sports. This man is overtaking Henry Aaron, who in contrast is a man who was and is beloved by many. Suspicion of steroids just gives people an outlet for expressing their dislike of a grumpy ball player that lacks universal appeal.

I say celebrate Barry Bonds and his accomplishments. He is an amazing baseball player and it has been a great time to be a Giants fan. He has carried my team for so long and done so many wonderful things. I like Barry Bonds. We’ve been privileged to witness one of the best baseball players ever to play to the game during these past 20 years and it will sadly soon come to an end. Thank you Barry.

Mormons = Christians?

Saw a disturbing documentary this weekend entitled “Jesus Camp”. Seeing this reminded me of something that has been on my mind for ages. I spent the last few years of my childhood and the whole of my teenage experience in Clovis, a California suburb near Fresno. I always knew that my religion set me apart. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, which is commonly known as the Mormon Church. I was born into the church and have attended nearly every Sunday my entire life. I know that as a child, both at home and at church, I was taught that I am a child of God, that we should follow the golden rule, and that God loved us so much that He sent His Son to die for us. I learned all about the life of Jesus Christ, including His miraculous conception and humble birth in Bethlehem, the beginning of His ministry at age 12 in the temple, His baptism by John the Baptist, His temptations in the wilderness, His parables and teachings, and culminating with His suffering for our sins in Gethsemane and cruel death on the cross at Golgotha. Not only did I believe in Christ, but I knew about Him and His life and I loved Him. I had been taught these things and others for as long as I can recall. This is perhaps why the experiences I’m going to relate next had such an impact on me.

When I was a freshman in high school, I was playing on the high school water polo team. I saw an advertisement for an organization called the Fellowship of Christian Athletes and noticed that they were going to have a meeting and would be serving lunch. Now, as most growing 14-year-old young men, I was always up for a free lunch. I also thought it was cool that there were other athletes who knew about Christ, for most of my teammates didn’t seem too excited about following the standards that I been taught to follow. I really thought this would be a great thing for me to meet some people who shared my beliefs and my standards who were also athletes. I walked in the door and was quickly greeted by some smiles and kind words. As a freshman at a large high school, this is a rare and cherished experience. What sport did I play? Are you hungry, the food is over here. Eventually came the, “Which church do you go to?” My answer, “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.” This answer, as usual, was met with blank stares, to which I quickly added, “I’m a Mormon.” Silence. Not a quiet reverence, but something colder, almost hateful. Then the remarks, “Mormons aren’t Christian. What are you doing here?” and “You don’t worship Jesus, but some guy who was a treasure hunter.” also “You don’t believe in the Bible cause you’ve got your own.” These were not questions but statements, and they were not accompanied by the smiles and kind tones that had greeted me moments earlier. These were accusations that I was different, I didn’t belong with them, and I wasn’t welcome. For the first time that I can remember, I felt discriminated against. I was not wanted simply for what my religion is. These people didn’t know me at all, all they knew was that I was a Mormon and that was a good enough reason to quickly change from kindness to cruelty.

As a 14-year-old, I was struggling with many things internally. I had grown 8 inches in a year and was lanky and a bit awkward. I had minor acne issues. I had loving parents and a great family, but at 14, instead of turning to them for strength, I had everything figured out already, at least I thought I did. I didn’t share problems with anyone when I had them; I still don’t for that matter, but prefer to deal with them internally. I was a bright kid. I could figure anything out. This is a product of a quick mind and fierce independence, traits that are both genetic and have been ingrained in me since my birth. Now, my religion, my very soul, was the subject of ridicule at the hands of some “Christian” athletes. I soon came to realize that my high school was full of “Christians” who, once they found out I was Mormon, immediately went into attack mode, like I was the product of something evil and must be shot down. I didn’t handle this very well. Instead of being proud of what I was and sticking close to the religion that at the time I held dear, I distanced myself. I found myself telling others, when religion came up, that I was a Christian in order to avoid the attack. I tried hard to not let others know that I was a Mormon. I was doing exactly the opposite of what I had been taught – I was ashamed of who I was and what I believed in (Romans 1:16).

In spite of this, my high school experience was pretty good in most aspects. I ended up with decent grades and good SAT/ACT scores, good enough to earn me academic scholarships to several schools. I became captain of the water polo team and played in the valley all-star game as a senior. I found that I have a knack for math, science, and photography. I had several girlfriends and enjoyed going to winter formals and proms. All aspects of my life were good, except for the religious things that I had been neglecting since my freshman year to avoid discrimination and ridicule. This neglect was internal in its nature, as I continued to attend church with my family every Sunday and even managed to attend the high school scripture-study course every morning before 1st period. All of this I did in action only. My heart was far from it. I had distanced myself from these things. I still managed to live the standards that I had been taught, mainly because most of them seemed logical to me. I’d seen enough drunk friends passing out and vomiting everywhere to not have any desire to drink. Being kind always seemed like the right thing to do, and though I wasn’t a saint, I was a pretty nice kid most of the time. The one standard that was tough for me was morality, but I didn’t have a steady girlfriend long enough to be too tempted to have sex either. I had been taught to save sexual relations for marriage and luckily ended up doing so. I firmly believe that the reason I didn’t ever have the opportunity is because I wouldn’t have been able to resist it (1 Corinthians 10:13).

My senior year of high school, the subject of our early morning classes was the life and teachings of Jesus Christ and His apostles, namely the New Testament. I wanted to know – am I Christian? Well, I believe in Christ. I believe He died to save us from our sins. He set a perfect example about how to live. Why wasn’t I Christian? What exactly was the definition of being a Christian? I looked it up. Here’s what Webster says: Christian – a person who has received Christian baptism or believes in Jesus Christ or his teachings. Well, I had been baptized when I was 8 and believed in Jesus Christ and His teachings. According to Webster, I qualified. Why didn’t I qualify in the eyes of many of my peers at school? I researched this problem further and came to a realization. In their eyes, I wasn’t a Christian because my understanding of the nature of Jesus Christ mainly, and some of his teachings, are so different than their own. I believe in the version of Jesus Christ from the New Testament. He was born of Mary, but begotten of God the Father. Somehow, Mary became pregnant with baby Jesus. He has a mortal mother and an immortal perfect father, who is God the Father. This gave him power over death, but the important quality of being able to die if he so dictated. This also means to me that God the Father and Jesus Christ are separate and distinct personages. This was manifest also at the baptism of Christ, when he had come up out of the water, the voice of the Father was heard declaring that He was pleased. Jesus Christ was killed on the cross at Golgotha, and three days later he rose again, a perfect, immortal being. He showed Himself to many people. He ate food and people touched him – in short, He had a physical body. Eventually, he ascended into Heaven to join His Father. He did not leave His body here – it went with him. This is the Jesus Christ I know and love. This is not the Jesus Christ that “Christians” worship. I don’t know exactly how to describe what they believe Jesus Christ is, but I know it is different than my view. Our differences are doctrinal, but most of the things Jesus Christ taught we all believe in. I still don’t understand where the hate comes from. Actually, I have a strong suspicion where this malice is rooted.

Since my time in high school, I’ve served a mission for my church. I lived in Southern Africa for two years preaching about Jesus Christ. I have become fully converted to my religion by following the teachings of James 1:5 and John 14:26, where I asked God by prayer whether the things I had been taught were correct. I received an answer by the Comforter that in fact what I had learned is true.

I live in Miami now, so I don’t encounter many “Christians”. Miami is very Catholic, Jewish and atheist. Seeing Jesus Camp this last weekend reminded me of the experiences I had when I was younger and it was not pleasant. I’m happy to be here where although I’m still in the religious minority, I’m not persecuted or discriminated against. When people find out here I’m Mormon, the comments and questions I get are never mean spirited. People are curious and kind. They are very tolerant and accepting of others beliefs. Living in Miami has taught me many things. I’m not only in the religious minority, but there are not many tall, non-Spanish speaking men of European descent here either. I have become a more tolerant and loving person as a result. My empathy for others has increased. I have experienced diverse cultures, customs, and food and have been richly rewarded. In sum, I have become more like the Man I wish to emulate, more full of love. If I could only use one word to describe Jesus Christ it would be love. That is what He is. That is what He promises. That is what I’m striving to become. That is not what I felt when dealing with “Christians” in my past or what I felt when watching Jesus Camp. I do not refer to myself as a “Christian” anymore. I want to dissociate myself as far from that group as possible. I declare proudly that I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I’m a Mormon.

Happy 4th of July!

Happy Independence Day! This is one of my favorite holidays of the year. I love meeting in the morning for a breakfast with friends. I love spending the afternoon swimming and enjoying family. I love lighting the fireworks you can purchase and then gathering on a blanket to watch a professional fireworks display. I love the music celebrating this great nation. And I love this country.

For two years of my life, I lived outside of the United States of America. You’ve heard the expression that you don’t truly appreciate family until you’ve lived away from them and I can say the same thing about America. I can also say that living here in Miami is more like living out of the country than in it. Every time I visit somewhere besides Miami, even a place as close as Ft. Lauderdale, I am reminded how much I love America and can’t wait to move back.

The United States provides opportunities to speak your mind about nearly every issue without fear of being thrown into prison or killed. You can go on national TV and criticize the job the President is doing and you will not be punished, and may be celebrated depending on the President. Freedom of speech is guaranteed, regardless of how offensive it can be to certain groups. When discussing something my father and I had heard that was offensive, my father said, “We may not agreed with that, but should be willing to die to protect his right to say it.”

I am very grateful for the freedom of religion, one of the tenets upon which this country was founded. As a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (the Mormon Church), I have found that this freedom doesn’t necessarily mean freedom from persecution. Now, the government is not supposed to favor any religion above another, or above no religion at all, and I have not been subject to this form of persecution. Persecution by members of different religions, on the other hand, has been plentiful, both for me individually and the church collectively. In fact, I would say that throughout the history of this country, our church has been one of the most persecuted. Typically, this comes at the hands of “Christians” as I’ll generically label the disparate protestant sects and is generally on points of doctrine that we differ, not necessarily moral values. In recent years, many Mormons have united with “Christians” on moral issues, especially politically, to elect representatives that will use government to uphold values that we find to be not just important, but vital to the continued prosperity of this great nation. This unification to gain political power seems to be a one-way street. The “Christians” are happy to get our votes for their candidate(s), but be damned if they’re going to vote of one of ours.

I’m thankful that I can walk down the street reading what I wish, that I can choose any career that suits me, and then change it on a whim whenever I feel like it. I’m happy that I may one day own a part of this nation, that my children can grow up here away from the pain and turmoil that faces so much of the world. I’m thankful for a political process that never focuses too much power in one area, that respects privacy, and that would rather let a hundred guilty men walk free than imprison one innocent one. Freedom is a special thing that many of us take for granted. In the immortal words of a classic song, I will conclude – “I’m proud to be an American, where at least I know I’m free. And I won’t forget the men who died who gave that right to me. And I’ll gladly stand up next to you to defend Her still today. ‘Cause there aint no doubt I love this land, God bless the USA.”

I got a trophy and an NBA wrap

First off, the great news. I competed in a sprint-distance triathlon (1/4 mile swim, 12 mile bike, 3 mile run) a few weeks ago and placed 3rd in my age group, and so doing received the first trophy of my adult life. That was really cool and I enjoyed it more than I imagined I would. I really enjoy the smaller triathlons, but I came away from the big one that I did unfulfilled, so I'm doing another 1/2 ironman (1.2 mile swim, 56 mile bike, 13.1 mile run). Throughout the run of the 1/2 ironman I did in March, I was upset at myself for not training properly. I could have done better than I did. My training, nutrition, overall health, and aerobic fitness needed improvement. This time around, I'm building a solid cardiovascular base. I bought my first heart-rate monitor and I've been training with it, ala Dr. Maffetone. It's really quite interesting - to monitor progress, you run a specific distance (in my case 5 miles) at a predetermined heart rate (again, for me 148 BPM - you get this by subtracting your age from 180). You do this every three weeks. If you're training properly, your time should go down with each test as your body slowly starts to work more efficiently at a lower heart rate, thus allowing you to speed up a bit and still not break the 148 barrier from aerobic to anaerobic training. For the next two months, I've got to do a lot of running, cycling, and swimming, but I can't go over my threshold. The 148 BPM is run specific - take 10 off for the bike and another 10 for the swim. After the two month building phase, I can only break through to anaerobic levels for less than 10% of my total training time, allowing me to maintain my aerobic base but also allowing some race-specific work. My training is dramatically different than what it was before. I found out that I've been running too fast, but swimming and biking too slow. I've increased my mileage, but I feel much better. So far, I'm pleasantly surprised with my new regiment. Where I really struggle is my nutrition. I like eating fatty foods. I love red meat. I love ice cream. I really like soda. These are not ideal triathlon training food items. I try to avoid them, but sometimes I just need to go to Outback and enjoy a Bloomin' Onion, a Ribeye, a warm brownie, all washed down with an ice-cold Coke. My diet has improved immensely over the past few years, but I don't see myself ever giving up these things entirely. Plus, I'm not a professional triathlete, just some former swimmer who enjoys being in shape and participating in triathlons.

The NBA finals are over and like I predicted, the Spurs are world champions. See what I meant about knocking the Suns around? That's all you need to do to beat them. The Cavs? Please. They are horrible and wouldn't have gotten out of the first round in the west. My attention now jumps to this off-season where it is becoming more likely that Kobe Bryant will not be a Laker much longer. This is a tragedy. Mitch Kupchuck has run this organization into the ground since Jerry West stepped down and will soon be known as the idiot GM who traded away both Shaq and Kobe. It's no wonder Kobe is pissed. He's playing in the prime of his career at a level that rivals any NBA great and he's got no help. Magic had Kareem and Worthy. Jordan had Pippen. Shaq had Kobe. Bird had McHale, Parrish, and DJ. Kobe has Kwame Brown and Smush Parker. The best-case scenario here is the Lakers get a deal done that brings either KG or Jermaine O'Neal to LA to play with Kobe. I think if Mitch could get that done, Kobe would back off of his trade demands. Problem is, I don't trust Mitch to get it done. He's too incompetent. This means Kobe will be leaving and the Lakers will be stuck getting some some garbage from the Eastern conference like they got in the Shaq deal. And here's your starting lineup - Lamar Odom, Luke Walton, Smush Parker, Luol Deng, and Ben Wallace. In the west that roster equals about 30 wins. If the Lakers trade Kobe and retain Mitch, I may have to break up with the Lakers - and this would bring my father immense joy, as he considers the fact that I'm a Laker fan one of his greatest failures as a parent. Needless to say, this off-season looks like it will be much more interesting than the NBA finals were, and that's not a good thing.

my brother, guns, and the playoffs

My brother is moving back to California with his family. I'm jealous and hope to move back myself in the next few years. He's going back to school and wants to eventually get on with the FBI. It is my dream to live close to one of my siblings (more than one would be even better). It looks like I'll be able to live next to my other brother eventually, as we both hope to end up in San Diego (he at San Onofre and me at Pfizer).

The tragedy at Virginia Tech is a chilling example of what happens when law-abiding citizens are forbidden from carrying their concealed firearms, even though they have a permit to do so. This madman would not have got through 30 people if someone could have been carrying their own protection. Isn't it obvious that all of these mass shootings occur in "gun-free" zones? These people are crazy, not stupid. They don't want people shooting back.

The NBA playoffs are underway. My beloved Lakers are likely done. Phoenix is just too good and the Lakers are too bad. At least they didn't get swept. They do however, need to knock Barbosa and Nash on their ass every time them come into the lane. I don't know why they don't do this. Those little guys would be more hesitant to come in and lay the ball up if they knew they were going to knocked down every time they tried. Hopefully they get some help this summer (KG, KG, KG, KG, KG!) The eastern conference is bad. Three sweeps in the first round? The winner of Detroit vs. Chicago will go to the NBA finals. Also, Go Warriors!!! I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Dirk is not an MVP. He's a wuss and a whiner. He will not be "the man" and lead a team to an NBA championship. He should not be the MVP. I don't know if he's going to win it, but he shouldn't. If you had one game to win and had to pick one player in the league to lead your team, who would you pick? I'd pick Kobe, but I'm biased. Wade would also be a good choice. But Dirk? I don't think so. The western conference is shaping up to be interesting. San Antonio and Phoenix will be good, but SA should win. They know to knock Steve Nash on his ass. The other side of the bracket, with hopefully Golden State and the winner of the Utah/Houston series, will be fun as well, but I don't any of those teams beating the Spurs. It will probably be a San Antonio vs. Detroit finals, which will a slug fest with teams barely breaking 70 ppg.