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Wednesday Bullets

  • The Boston Herald has dropped the bomb that Doc Rivers may not be long for the Celtics. Or, at least, it seems like a bomb. But look through the comments on that story about Rivers potentially leaving. No one is upset! At the moment of this writing, they range from gleeful to resigned. Not one impassioned plea for him to stay.

  • Maybe the best thing on the Web is this doodad that lets you picture Stan Van Gundy with all kinds of different looks. If Van Gundy doesn't rush out for a big aggressive tattoo on his left temple after seeing this, he's obviously one of those people who is scared of being his most attractive. (Thanks Kalyan.)

  • John Hollinger has written that the trouble with Ricky Rubio's game is a lack of scoring at the rim. It almost seems like this particular Rubio highlight reel was made just to combat any and all with that complaint.

  • A little quiz: Name the player who is almost certainly about to set a new NBA record for 3-point field goal percentage over a season. The answer is at the end of this post.

  • Remember when the Celtics used to rotate perfectly on defense?

  • Shannon Brown, once again a highlight reel-star.

  • Violence in Chicago. Not coach vs. executive (although here's the latest on that). It's Derrick Rose vs. rim.

  • With LeBron James reportedly sitting out, Kevin Durant will be this year's scoring champion.

  • Tony Romo and Caron Butler go way back. Seriously.

  • A very stat geeky way to pick winners of all the NBA's major awards. The computers like Manu Ginobili as sixth man, by the way, as do I.

  • Identifying the moment the Pacers' season became irrelevant.

  • New Orleans Hornets coach Jeff Bower on why it is players should play hard well after they're out of playoff contention: "They have a lot to play for every time they take the floor as professional athletes." He then goes on to defend the team's performance since he took over as coach -- essentially he says the team has only been bad without Chris Paul, but pretty good with him. He then abruptly left the conversation with the media scrum.

  • The Larry Brown wanderlust-o-meter is back on high.

  • After kicking the Nuggets aside with ease last night, wouldn't the Suns have to at least consider losing tonight in Utah to set up a first-round series with those same Nuggets they have just played so well? Phoenix would have homecourt advantage in such a series. The argument against that approach would be that if the Suns make the conference finals against the Jazz, that little stunt would cost them homecourt advantage there. And if there's one thing we know about the Jazz, it's that you want homecourt advantage when you play them.

  • Talk of "big change" in Golden State.

  • A little PG-13 and a little harsh, but a fantastic Nets' fan perspective on the lack of sentimentality involved in saying goodbye to the Nets. David Roth, writing on The Awl. The experience of saying goodbye to the New Jersey Nets in East Rutherford has been going on for years. But it ended like this: "And then out into the swampy night, the sourdough air and the weird darker-than-the-night shadows cast by the abandoned mall and the hulking red ski slope (seriously) that was to be Xanadu's main attraction. We got onto a shuttle bus that was supposed to take us to the Senator Frank R. Lautenberg Secaucus Junction Station, and the bus, implausibly, impossibly, got lost. Didn't get on Route 3, wound up on the wrong spur of the New Jersey Turnpike. New Jersey residents will most definitely let you know if you're on the wrong spur of the Turnpike, and a mutiny of sorts started in the front of the bus. The driver kept on, and we were in North Arlington and then outer Newark, the Jersey wetlands dark all around, the Manhattan skyline distant and bright. The bus driver was commanded by a group of passengers—led by a screaming lady I never identified and the most assertive of a three-man crew of teenagers who all sounded oddly like Jay Leno, right down to their shared nasal lisp—to drop us off at Newark's Penn Station, seven marshy miles east of our original destination. My friends and I were shocked silent by this point. It had been over an hour since the game ended and we were still on the bus, still across the river and another hour from our homes in New York City. The driver agreed to go to Newark Penn Station. The lead Leno Kid walked back up the aisle as the bus made its way down the darkened Raymond Boulevard, towards the train station. "You should've heard my line," he said to his friends and to me and mine, beaming. 'I said to the bus driver, 'Well, thank you for this be-yoo-tiful tour of New Jersey.'' He repeated it a moment later, seemingly still awed that he could've come up with something so crazily, so perfectly apt."