"FIRE RIC BUCHER!": The NBA Draft 2005
For a number of reasons the month of June is one of my favorite human months. Normally in the last couple weeks before it winds down, June gives us the always entertaining NBA Draft. I first started watching the draft on TNT in 1992 when Shaq was drafted first overall by the Orlando Magic, and Clarence Weatherspoon was drafted by the Sixers ninth for some unkown reason. Back in those days I was more interested in the strategy of the draft and to see which player would go to which team. As the years went on I grew more and more interested in the unintentional high comedy that surrounded this event whether it was the ugly suits with abnormally large jackets (sometime hats (sometimes with feathers, sometimes not)), the akward interviews with the invited players on hand, or seeing which retard (Sharone Wright, anyone?) the Sixers would draft (more recently with which overrated and undersized power forward the Knicks would take in the first round). The NBA Draft was a night that I would wait for every year with great anticipation, but something happened a couple years ago that would change my draft watching experience as I knew it for the rest of my life - I found out that I could go and be there in person.
Though I intended to go in 2003 (which was ESPN's first year of coverage) something happened that I can't remember and I just wound up watching it on television as always. Last year though, my brother and I made the trip up to Madison Square Garden to see it live for the first time. The plan (as it was the year before when some of my friends went and I didn't) was to harass (by whatever means necessary, mind you) ESPN NBA analyst and former shockingly-not-that-awful-for-a-bald-white-guy NBA forward, Tom Tolbert. As you could imagine, 2004's NBA Draft was not only my favorite draft of all time but one of the most "Entertaining Without Alcohol" nights of my life. Not only was it fun because of the Tolbert Factor, but also because the Sixers drafted Andre Iguodala, plus if you get up and leave your seats, you can interact with all of the players as they walk to a separate room for interviews. Since I was so focused on Tolbert last year, I decided this year I would make more of an effort to see the player, take their pictures, and congratulate them or say things to them that are meant to confuse and possibly anger them on the night they've been waiting for their entire lives. Good times.
So, last Monday (the 27th, and day before the draft) my brother and I decided to watch ESPN's Draft Preview show and that's when something horrible happened that would change our Draft gameplan. Tom Tolbert no longer works for ESPN. It took a couple minutes for it to sink in, but then I replayed in my head how ESPN didn't have Tolbert in any NBA shows the whole year. I'm not certain, but I think that two years of ruthless harassment from fans at the Draft finally got throught to ESPN and they took our adivce by firing Tom Tolbert (which was just one of the many chants and taunts that I dare not repeat for your eyes to see). All of a sudden their was a gigantic stone in our collective shoe (yeah, not my best, I know), for who were we going to go after this year? I immediately hit the war room and decided that our new target was ESPN.com journalist, Ric Bucher. Since ESPN took over the draft, Bucher would sit up on the balcony in the Theater at MSG and give rumors on who might go where in the draft as well as if there were going to be any trades of pick or current players. Granted, we had absolutely no good reason to go after this guy. For all I know he's good at what he does (unlike Tolbert) and looks like he's a friendly Mormon. When it came down to it, there really isn't a reason not to like or hate this guy unless you know him. As it turns out, that reason alone is what made him perfect for the job.
Rest in Peace, Tolbert.
From the second that all of us were in our seats we were on Bucher like jealousy on a Scandanavian. While we didn't have the numbers we did last year, our army of six was up to the task, though there was really only constant harassment from about three or four of us. As it turns out, it didn't matter though because the whole section that we were in caught on and would also throw out random insults Bucher's way. (A side note on those in our section: if you were to close your eyes and picture what someone from Nebraska who has never been to Manhattan would picture when he/she closes his/her eyes and thinks of a typical New Yorker in his 20s or 30s, well there were about 40 of them behind us.) So, while all those people held down there job of taking to Bucher, my friend Brian (and with certain people, Tom) and I would go out to the lobby area to see the players on their way to do thousands of interviews. Since I had my camera with me I took as many pictures of these players as I could and I will go through the good ones now and tell you what was said (mostly by a not not sober Brian) for each one that I show. By the way, there's still more on Bucher to come so be patient if you please.
Bucher's Balcony:
Ric Bucher is less blurry in person.
The first player we saw was the Utah Jazz's 3rd pick out of Illinois, pudgy PG Deron Willams. What you should know about Williams is that he just played in the NCAA Championship game (which his team lost to North Carolina, if you can't remember the events of April or just don't care) and did really well in the tournament and in the season overall. Also, his name is not pronounced "deh-RON," but "deron" (like heron) if that makes sense. So, of course, Brian Hughes called him "deh-RON" when he saw him up close, but Deron didn't care and kept on walking after shaking his hand. Here's the picture:
"Congratulations deh-RON!" - Brian Hughes
After Williams, the New Orleans Hornets drafted Wake Forest PG, Chris Paul, who I think will turn out the best of all of the PGs and was one of the guys I wanted to see most. When Brian and I went to go see him I suggested that Brian should offer Paul his beer as congratulations, which he agreed to do. When Paul and his entourage of agents and security gaurds walked by Brian followed suit and offered his beer to which Paul seemed interested, and the man to his left laughed and said, "not til later."
As you can see, Chris Paul is reaching for the beer which unfortunately isn't pictured.
Up next was the Charlotte Bobcat's 5th pick, UNC PG Raymond Felton who was simply a jerk even though you can see him shaking Brian's hand. I don't really blame hime though because he has to be a Bobcat for the next few years.
"I'm a jerk!" - Raymond Felton
The first surprise of the night was when the Toronto Raptors selected Connecticut PF, Charlie "Ugliest Man in Draft" Villanueva with the seventh overall pick. When his name was announced the crowd went insane and started cheering, dancing, and waving Dominican Republic flags around as if Pedro Martinez just appeared out of nowhere, which was the only thing more shocking than the pick. When we went to go see him we didn't really have much to say, but a kid behind us screamed out, "have fun in Toronto!" in a way that the city of Toronto would not choose to use in their Visit Toronto commercials if such commercials exist. Though ugly and headed for Toronto he was nice enough to slap our hands. Good for him.
Villanueva ain't got no alibi.
The next pick was arguably the night's most anticipated because it belonged to the hometown New York Knicks. Earlier in the night I asked a Knick fan friend of mine if he thought they were going to draft another weak power forward to which he replied with something along the lines of, "that joke's getting real old." Well, sure enough, the joke was as fresh as ever when they drafted Arizona's Channing Frye with the eigth overall pick. Before the pick was announced Brian started a "NOT CHANNING FRYE" chant which I recorded on film with my camera. In the video, you see him chanting this along with others nearby (I was chanting "DRAFT CHANNING FRYE" on the other hand because I hate the Knicks and want to see their fans suffer) and then he is silent while the pick is made, and when he hears Frye's name called he loses it and starts flailing in every direction impossible to man. If you're ever in my house, ask me to play it for you because as reaction shots go this is right up there with Fabio after that goose flew into his face on that classic roller coaster ride (well, maybe not that good, but still good). So, Brian, Tom and I went out to see Frye in person and were trying to decide if we were going to be mean to him or not. After all, Frye himself did not make the selection, and this is clearly the biggest night of his life so we thought we should offer him the free Knick wristbands we were given when we entered MSG. Well, as you will see in the picture, Frye denied our goodwill offering and kept on walking as if we weren't there, which set Brian off once again. As a result he shouted something not so pleasant at Frye once he was far enough away, to which a lady in her late 50s, possibly early 60s to exception to and turned around and said, "hey, leave him alone - he's a nice guy." Maybe he is, but I've never met a nice guy who would turn down free wristbands. Time will tell I guess.
I guess Channing Frye would only accept picture wirstbands.
Brian and I didn't go out again until the Lakers used their 10th pick to draft a high school center named Andrew Bynum, who I think is from New Jersey. We decided that we would go out to see him to call him WILL Bynum, a guard from Georgia Tech who was not drafted. This seemed clever enough, and when he walked by Brian said, "you should've been a Knick, WILL," to which Andrew replied, "yeah, I should've," apparently not noticing that Brian made a point of getting his name wrong. Maybe that's the reason he isn't going to college.
"Hi, my name's Andrew, but you can call me Will." - Andrew Bynum
Tom came back out with us for the next pick which belonged to the LA Clippers. With the pick they selected some guy from Russia named Yaroslav Korolev, about whom I know nothing. So the three of us were looking in the draft guide they gave out at the theater to learn something about this guy when some really tall Russian kid came up to us and leaned over our shoulders and asked us what we knew about this guy. Now, if anyone there should no anything about a Russian draft pick you would think it would be this person. You would also not expect this person to catch you by surprise for information, or maybe you would (I don't know all of you personally). Anyway, it freaked us out at first and then we were trying as hard as we could to hold back the laughter, which I was not able to do successfully so I ran away. I was able to disguise this though by yelling out, "here he comes!" like I couldn't contain myself due to all the excitment and not the actual situation. It's too bad I can't do stuff like that for a living because I'm really, really good at it. As Korolev was approaching the crowd we tried to think of something to say and we decided that Brian would tell him that he (Brian) had "just come back from St. Petersburg." We thought this would connect us to him and that maybe we could get his attention, but Brian wound up delivering this golden line in the most depressing way as if, in fact, he had, in fact, just come back from St. Petersburg. As you would imagine, this crashed and burned, and we probably wound up making the poor guy feel more sad than welcome, but the Russian life is a sad life.
Russian to get past us.
The next two pictures I have are of North Carolina teammates, Sean May and Rashad McCants, who were drafted back to back by the Charlotte Bobcats and Minnesota Timberwolves. Sean May's picture came out headless but I did get to slap the hand of the 2005 NCAA tournament's Most Outstanding Player, which means something if nothing else in your life means anything. With McCants though, not only did I get a good picture but the three of us got a warm recpetion that we weren't expecting. So McCants is cool in my book, much unlike that jerk, Raymond Felton.
The NBA's top rookie headless power forward, Sean May.
You can tell that an awesome handshake is just seconds away. Look at the look in his eyes. I've never seen someone so determined. Also, nice peach shirt.
The next player we saw was the one who I had been looking forward to for months, Syracuse power forward, and Philadelphia native, Hakim Warrick. Hak, as I like to call him, was on the championship team with Carmelo Anthony in 2003 and had the game saving block in the corner that even the casual college basketball fan can remember. Warrick is also a great dunker, and I vowed that I would be the team that drafted him in the new NBA Live for PS2 that will be out in the fall. Well, it looks like I'll be the Memphis Grizzlies for the second straight year because they drafted him with the 19th pick. Unfortunately for Hak, however, he was 2005's version of "the last player in the green room," which refers to the last invited player that was actually in attendance even though some players come on their own and sit in the crowd with everyone else. Since this isn't the greatest honor for a drafted player Hak looked real depressed and angry and it shows in his picture. As he was walking towards us you can see he wasn't shaking any hands until Brian said what I told him to when he came up to us which was, "you're gonna win the dunk contest this year, Hak!" I was too excited to say anything so Brian came through and I think it cheered Warrick up for a split second for out two hands were the only ones he slapped. Hey, you know what they say, "if you can only reach one person . . ."
This is right when he hears Brian, which you can tell because he's licking his lips thinking about dominating in the dunk contest. I can't wait.
The last player we saw from the first round was NC State G/F, and NY native, Julius Hodge who was drafted 20th by the Denver Nuggets. Since he went to high school at St. Ray's in the Bronx he came on his own and was probably more excited than anyone else there to be drafted. Hodge, who was a Senior, is a favorite in the Duffy household, as well as my friend who I'm sure was rejoicing at home, Tom Hein's favorite college basketball player maybe ever. So when Hodge approached us I screamed out, "Tom Hein says hi!" to which he smiled and acted like he knew what I meant, and then gave a wave that would make beauty pageant winners envious.
"Tell Tom Hein that I say hi back!" - Julius Hodge.
After all this commotion we went back in and settled down to harass Bucher some more, but not before Brian broke his belt and announced it to an audience of a number of people which resulted in some kid making fun of him and then agreeing to reenact the event so I could take a picture.
Pictured from left: a coy Tom, a drunk and confused Brian, Brian's broken belt, and some jerk kid who couldn't mind his own business.
Now finally back to Bucher.
Once we got back to our seats, the other three members of our party, and the "New York, New York" ruffians behind us were all going after Bucher (except for the time when the ruffians inexplicably started chanting, "GO NEW YORK, GO NEW YORK, GO!" a la Vanilla Ice from the second Ninja Turtles movie, except he said "GO NINJA, GO NINJA, GO!" which actually turned out to be a hilarious surprise that I did not expect at the beginning of the night, though it made perfect sense). We got some good "FIRE RIC BUCHER" and "RIC BUCHER SUCKS" chants in, and then I started chanting, "BRING BACK TOLBERT," quickly followed by me chanting "TOM TOLBERT SUCKS!" Aside from the chants, my brother, Brian, and Mo (one of our six) got in some perfectly timed taunts with the best, or at least cleanest and best, being, "hey Bucher, you got a face for radio," which got lots of laughs from the non-chanting fans on our side of the theater (not just our section). Brian on the other hand chose to go a more blue route and he said some extremley lewd comments that I would love to post but, for the most part, this is a family site so I can't. Well, not only did Brian get these taunts across, but he then went on to re-tell what he thought were his best ones in a loud voice to the people in our group as well as a few others. Since the first round was over, and 70 percent of the audience had left, he was louder than normal which drew the attention of a nearby security guard who was clearly angry. He started walking towards our section secreaming and threatening to throw Brian, as well as the rest of us out of what remained of the Draft. This, of course, made me want to laugh as pretty much everything does though this was more of a "nervous-/-I-don't-want-to-be-facing-jail-time" kind of laugh. Thanks to this security guard our night was in danger of being ruined, and things only looked like they were going to get worse as Ric Bucher took off his microphone and started walking to our section from his balcony.
As it turns out, Bucher was far from mad and wasn't coming after us at all. From where we were sitting we were able to explain that we were doing this all in fun and that we actually liked him. Brian saw this as an oppurtunity and went up to talk to "Buchs" (as we like to call him), one on one (pictured below). In their surprisingly long conversation Brian was able to explain the whole Tolbert backstory, and how we hated the fact that he wasn't there anymore so we felt like we had to use Bucher as a subsitute. Buchs seemed to understand what we were doing, and in fact, he welcomed it when he said the following: "I don't mind being the token white guy taking the heat." Ric Bucher is the coolest guy ever. Not only was he not mad, but he was enjoying it, not to mention that fact that he promised he would try his best to get Tolbert re-hired. This development led me to the conclusion that Ric Bucher is either the nicest person in the world, or he is the most cunning criminal mastermind journalist/reporter alive. Whatever the case, Buchs became our hero that night, and the rest of the way we only gave him positive chants such as, "WE LOVE BUCHER" and "BUCHER IS GOD!" (which probably isn't as accurate as the "WE LOVE BUCHER" chant).
He's the hero of the Draft, the man they call "Buchs"
As the second and final round was winding down, the Sixers used their only pick (45th overall) on a high school PG named Louis Williams, who is pretty much just like Allen Iverson in terms of style of game, though he is years from even being worthy enough to even talk to AI. Since that was pretty much the last thing we wanted to see, we left shortly after that and headed back home with a new love for Ric Bucher, and the hopes that we might get to torture Tom Tolbert at least one more time on the holiest of all nights (again, probably not totally accurate).
"TOLBERT SUCKS!"