Dismal. Not a word you want to see in sports, but one that aptly describes the first round of this year’s NBA playoffs.

While hockey excited and turned us on (don’t lie, you felt it) with countless overtimes, heavy suspensions, fierce rivalries, and one of the most memorable two week stretches in the history of the sport – basketball is plodding along and doing everything it can to depress us.

Let’s break it down with a list of said depressing things (readers love lists).

1. Crippling injuries

It started with Derrick Rose and snowballed from there. Words can’t describe how sick to the stomach watching Rose go down made me feel, and not just because he’s the best player on my favourite sports team. If you think of somebody who deserves it in the sport of basketball, whatever that “it” may be – a championship, an MVP, general accolades – that guy is Derrick Rose. In a league dominated by arrogance, complaining, flopping (we’ll get to that later), Derrick Rose (and the still-healthy Kevin Durant) is a beacon (yes, a beacon) of humility and represents how the sport should be played. Losing him puts a huge damper on the playoffs the rest of the way. It also opens up the door for…

2. Miami’s cakewalk

I know you were all SO excited to see Miami trounce through the Eastern Conference. Now, with the Bulls a complete wash, Boston looking old and Indiana… (HAHA), Miami has maybe the easiest road to the Finals that any team has had in 15 years. This is super depressing unless you’re a Heat fan (if you are, get the hell off my blog, I’ve told Google Analytics to ignore your hit and pretend you don’t exist).

3. #FlopCity

I’ve read about a hundred times on Twitter that with all the short, one-sided series in this year’s first round, the only hope for competition comes from the Memphis Grizzlies / L.A. Clippers series. To that I scoff and say “ha!”. Watching last night’s Game 4 was basketball’s interpretation of “The Boy Who Cried Wolf” slash ballet recital slash everything Tom Hanks preached against in A League Of Their Own. Watching 48 minutes of every Clippers player falling like they’ve been shot every time someone lifts an elbow is comical. Flopping, now copyrighted by the Clippers, is one of the worst epidemics in the sport of basketball. Hockey players may be goons and idiots, but at least they take hits like a man (unless your name rhymes with Fidney Mrosby). Here’s the either wildly stupid or wildly intelligent (depending on the minute) Chris Webber for more.

Preach. Also, any Blake Griffin fans reading this need to convert. I like his highlights too, but watching him for an entire game is like putting up with your privileged cousin at a family picnic. Stop whining about the potato salad and just eat, stupid cousin. I’m getting sidetracked.

4. Parody (Not The Funny Kind)

After watching the L.A. Kings take out the top two seeds in the Western Conference in the NHL, I’m reminded of how horribly predictable the NBA is every year (and how incredibly unpredictable the NHL is). Currently, we have seven series that are either over (S.A. and OKC sweeps) or will likely end in five (Lakers, Sixers, Celtics, Heat, and Indiana winners). Of those, only one team is a lower half seed, and that’s because the Sixers are playing a roster that the Toronto Raptors could win a series against (it literally hurts to write that).

SUPER EXCITING!

No wonder nobody watches the sport anymore. Of the likely conference finals, the only team that breathes fresh blood is the Thunder – truly my last hope for an exciting conclusion to this forgettable NBA season.

All this being said after cutting my wrists through all these first round matchups, I think us basketball addicts will be paid off with great karma in the second round. Thunder/Lakers and Spurs/#FlopCity should make for genuine entertainment out West. In the East, we’ll have to wait a little longer for our just desserts while Indiana and Philadelphia get the snot pummeled out of them. After that, watching the Celtics in the ECF, in what could be their last gasp to try to take out the Heat, will be a heavyweight fight for the ages.

There’s hope for you yet, NBA. There’s hope for you yet.

It’s finally here, you guys! After more trailers, previews, sneak peeks, and behind the scenes features than The Avengers, Dark Knight Rises, and Prometheus combined, the new Justin Bieber music video is here!

Needing a public boost after getting outshone on Billboard by his 26-year-old counterpart Carly Rae (yes, the singer of “Call Me, Maybe” is 26. That’s five years older than me and ten years past being acceptable), the swoopy-haired darling is hoping his teen-teasing “Boyfriend” clips has created insurmountable hype for the real video, the piece de resistance, the true Van Gogh of our era.

And here it is.

Oh wait, sorry. This is it.

If you don’t want to watch, just follow along with my thoughts. It will cushion the blow to know that I have nothing better to do than live-blog a Justin Bieber video.

0:05 – You’ve all seen this part. Uncomfortably sexual Justin whispers technically romantic things framed visually as naughty things into girl’s ears. B-roll of assorted things dripping and bouncing accompany.

0:08 – Michael Jackson silhouette finger snap! Who does this lesbian think he is?!

0:19 – The expression on Justin’s face here: “I’m not really like this, but isn’t it fun to pretend that I can have raunchy sex?” Dead giveaway for what’s to come.

0:21 – iPhone 5.

0:25 ­– Girls in vintage car laughing at Justin’s sexuality. I’m glad I’m not alone.

0:31 ­– SHYAMALAN TWIST. That wasn’t the video at all, you idiots! That’s just the part you get teased with for months, while actually, Justin was just remaking an N’Sync video. This isn’t an homage to Justin Timberlake, it’s a full-on parody.

0:35 – Rick Ross titles. Boss. I wonder if he has swag though?

0:50 – Well, he said swag fourteen times so I guess he has it. Swaggy. I’m bored.

0:52 – Has anyone else noticed that Justin’s choreography is just made up of three-second cutaways? At least be original and make it 5-7. You’re getting beat up by a 26-year-old teenager in the charts, stop playing so safe. Does anyone remember Nick Jonas? No. He’s dead. You don’t want to be Nick Jonas.

0:58 – Let me see you bounce right to left and let your shoulder lean.

1:12 – “I’ve never had sex but I can fake-drift a discount American sports car.” – Justin Bieber

1:24 – Don’t mug for the camera while driving. I’m still mad that this is the real video.

1:50 – Seriously, when does Nelly show up?

1:54 – Acoustic guitar = true musicianship.

At this point, my boredom took over and I skipped ahead to the end so let’s just say the video ends there. For those who were actually interested, it slowly becomes night, more dance parties break out, Justin does a kind of day-one-hip-hop-dance-class-two-step, mugs a few more times, then leaves.

Coming soon: Justin Bieber’s full album, which is actually just another Christmas album. Because he doesn’t have to try, obviously. 

Gotcha, Beliebers! *mug for camera*

A few months ago, I introduced the world (nay, better than the world, Winnipeg’s college community) to a man named Ivan Johnson. In my column for The Projector, I declared him the embodiment of hip-hop, the true return of everything the NBA was trying to banish.

Well, it’s playoff time in the association, and the Atlanta Hawks are due for another playoff push (completely broadcast on cable giant NBA TV). Ivan Johnson is still in the rotation, and in ten seconds last week, he showed us who he is, the most volatile badass in basketball today. 

Observe:

Here, Ivan Johnson first proves he’s a rookie. He has a terrible turnover coming off a strong rebound, throwing right into the arms of Nick Young. Immediately furious and realizing his mistake, Ivan goes full on HGH-beast mode, jumping out of the gym to ferociously deny Young while yelling choice lines from the movie 300 (that last part may or may not be true. I’m going with probably true).

Now, I know that I’ve smack talked the Hawks in the past. To be honest, they’re more boring to watch than the Spurs. At least the Spurs are good. But with the playoffs starting in two days, keep your eyes on Ivan. I mean, we still haven’t figured out why he got kicked out of South Korea. For life.

Read my original Projector column below. 40 Games in 40 Nights starts this Saturday on TNT. You know I’m excited when they’re not even paying me.

Anybody who is aware of sports knows that basketball and hip hop go together like tea and honey, like a hug and a cold day, like a warm sweater and a good book. Except this relationship is way more violent than those things.

In an attempt to quash baggy pants, do-rags, and oversized G-Unit t-shirts, (remember those?)—otherwise known as “Allen Iverson”—NBA commissioner David Stern implemented a dress code ten years ago. “Wear a collar or face punishment,” he said, resembling my Dad before my first day of work placement.

Since then, professional basketball players off the court remind me of caged prisoners. In December, Lebron James showed up on the sideline wearing white pants and a grey suit jacket, and tried to pass it off as “fashion.” Groan.

Then, like a saviour from on high, the Atlanta Hawks bench gave us Ivan Johnson.

A 27-year-old rookie, (you’ll know why shortly), Johnson is the answer to everything David Stern tried to kill off. To be blunt, he’s badass. Let’s break down why.

Johnson, who scored 13 of his 15 career points in a triple-overtime game against the Miami Heat in early January, spent four years at four different colleges playing ball.

With prestigious school names like Cal State San Bernardino and Oregon, it’s no wonder he was undrafted and promptly shipped off to play in South Korea. How did he end up back stateside?
He was banned for life. The kicker? Nobody knows why. He just got kicked out of South Korea. Awesome.

After picking up a roster spot in the NBA’s developmental league, Johnson reminded people of how cool he is when he picked up five technical fouls, and an ejection in his first nine games. Johnson also has a diamond grill and has no problem wearing it during games. Imagine seeing a 6’9” guy coming at you with a diamond grill. You’d probably get out of the way.

Before reading the following conclusion, I encourage everyone to pull out your laptop, smartphone, or that free tablet that you got for buying your kids smartphones on the Rogers network. Look up Ivan Johnson. Look at his face, and you’ll know why hip hop is officially back in the NBA.

The best part is, what’s a little old man like David Stern going to say?

Nothing. So dust off your G-Unit gear, twenty-somethings. Hip hop has returneth to the game of basketball.

So lately, I’ve become more interested in advertising.

Maybe it’s writing copy at work. More likely, it’s the two week binge of Mad Men I went on a month ago (stopping suddenly after realizing there are clinical problems with staying up till 5 a.m. to watch 7/8 episodes at a time). I’d still like to consider that a legitimate excuse, I don’t care what bandwagon I’m jumping on.

Anyway, what’s interested me today is a couple ads from Wieden + Kennedy that literally sit on opposite ends of what’s hot in advertising right now. Above, the sentimental P&G Moms campaign (started at the 2010 Vancouver Olympics) gets its first ad for London this summer. Easily the best yet, this heavy, emotional piece harkens back to the haymaker thrown by the same agency’s “Halftime In America” spot for Chrysler at this year’s Super Bowl. It’s poignant, memorable, and tells a story - all while keeping the product (mostly) out of the way.

Take a deep breath now. On the other side of the spectrum is the original in nonsensical: Old Spice’s new ad, “I Can Do Anything”. Asking men to believe in themsmellfs, the inspiring message given is that even dreadlocked weirdos can be and smell like a champion. I’m sold on this one, honestly. I still laugh and I’ve watched it about a hundred times (I had serious issues embedding these).

In other news, Heather Graham is still alive. So that’s neat.

I put these ads right up there as my favourites of the last couple months. I hope, in reading this, that you laughed, cried, and realized the true potential of advertising. If not, I’ll try again mid-summer.

While staying up for Radiohead, Bon Iver, and A$AP Rocky was a given, my personal highlight from Coachella’s first weekend was a raw live performer by the name of Frank Ocean.

You might have been introduced to him on Watch The Throne but the soul-loving senior member of rap collective OFWGKTA released his mixtape Nostalgia, Ultra in early 2011. I covered it here, pointing out how Frank and The Weeknd were pushing R&B into a new, more real direction.

Since then, Frank has been focused on showing off his pipes, and did not disappoint live. Avoiding a diva meltdown despite continued mic issues, he sauntered through and added pizazz to new songs like “Thinking About You”: simple and smooth R&B painted with light drug synths. 

With a signing by Island Def Jam, his material is starting to pop up on iTunes and I think you should check it out.