Salt Fake City

Ask me now, I'm the artist, but hardcore, my science for pain
I spent time in the game, kept my mind on fame...

A lost weekend in Utah and your Denver Nuggets are coming home a beaten, downtrodden team. Their point guard has suddenly morphed into an aging icon. The power forward and his attitude look like a pussy cat in comparision to his Jazz counterparts. The center looks like a mere gnat versus the clumsy, ogre-like Jazz fill-in center. Meanwhile, the Jazz point guard arguably looks like the best player in the postseason not named LeBron James.

Finger pointing. Lack of effort. Ill-advised shots. Team work. No defense for long stretches. Chants of "Denver sucks" from the Utah crowd. A coaching staff and acting head coach that looks completely over their head. A Jazz team very apt to taking charges (or at least selling it) without looking too much like a soccer player. Someone even said the DN Dancers are looking a little plump (think Utah has emerged from their "prude" stereotype? Check out their dancers outfits? More fabric than a tent factory.)

That loud shut? Was it the Nuggets' window of opportunity in the Western Conference? Whispers of "breaking up" the team are being bantered about. Could Melo soon be gone from our town and plying his wares in a Nets or Knicks uni? More muscle coming in, more flair moving out.

Suddenly the lost weekend is back at a Mile High and has come down to a one night stand. Three one night stands? Most likley not, and be ready for the lost weekend becoming the lost off-season.

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