Feeling a lot better this morning: The NBA has a new dress code.
I've held off posting on this before, waiting to see the finished product. And here it is: Business casual. No sleeveless shirts, shorts, T-shirts. No sunglasses indoors, or oversized jewelry over top of clothing, etc. Out with retro NFL jerseys, in with sports jackets. While on "league business", that is.
Here's some reaction from Phoenix guard Raja Bell, from the AP report of the league's new policy, which doesn't even allow for Casual Fridays, for pete's sake:
"I understand they're making it out to make us look better to corporate and big business. But we don't really sell to big business. We sell to kids and people who are into the NBA hip-hop world. They may be marketing to the wrong people with this."
Sure, some of these guys were starting to look like Ali G. But this is pretty overcooked. I can't wait to see what the penalties are. Confiscation of the closet? A ten-day suspension to be served at Harry Rosen?
Elsewhere this morning:
Albert Pujols is the new Mr. October (or the new Joe Carter, to name one guy who barely gets a mention in this piece, but holds a very dear place in these kind of moments). And Brad Lidge? Demolished, writes Rich Griffin.
Dave Feschuk figures it's time the Raptors dumped Rafael (Hoffensive Foul) Araujo (maybe he's been reading here), as the Raptor caretakers realize they just might have a problem in the middle -- hey, Mamadou N'Diaye is available.
Another NBA read worth the time: Marc Stein on this saddest of preseasons.
Aren't golf's hallowed rules dumb? I'd say so. At least when they're called a day late. By a reporter. Dave Perkins takes a look, and while we're on this golf kick, Jim Byers reports that Canada's national women's open has a sponsor.
Oh goody. Posh and Becks have a court date.