As we head into the 4th quarter of the NBA season, the Chicago Bulls are the first and only team to have clinched a playoff spot so far, which wouldn’t seem like much of an accomplishment, except that Derrick Rose has missed 17 games this season. Meanwhile, the Miami Heat have entered that “we know we can kill anyone but we’re saving it for the playoffs” phase of their season, which doesn’t mean much, because they’ll still finish in the No. 2 spot – if they don’t gain ground and upend the Bulls, that is – because the Orlando Magic and Philadelphia 76ers most likely aren’t going to catch them.

In the West, the Oklahoma City Thunder showed they’re ready to start the playoffs now, with a 103-87 thrashing of the Heat on Sunday. San Antonio, though, has flown under the radar while becoming the second best team in the conference, and those cranky, grizzled veterans are probably the biggest threat to the Thunder’s Finals run. Well, except maybe the Lakers or the Mavericks. Or anyone.

This season has been strange.

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Danny Granger scored a direct hit on Antawn Jamison's testicles last night, and the resulting nut shot isn't half as entertaining as the announcers' reactions, which include laughter followed by "That's not a laughing matter, actually," a perfectly in-unison "OOOOOHHH!" and the shattering insight of "That was a BULLS-EYE!"

Really, the only thing missing is, "And now let's go courtside to sideline reporter Nelson Muntz for his take.  Nelson?" 

[The Postmen] 

The NBA found two teams from the Eastern Conference who don't completely blow last night, and made them play each other, resulting in a game that didn't entirely suck. Pretty crazy, I know, but it happened.

Gilbert Arenas — why is that name familiar? — scored 36 points and added 11 assists and 7 rebounds as the Wizards beat the Pistons 104-99 to continue their dominance at home (18-4 so far this season). Unfortunately for les boulez, Antawn Jamison left the game with an injured something-or-other (hey, read the article your damn self), so now they're down to two good players.

I'd like to feel bad for Antawn, but I can feel no sympathy for pro athletes whose names openly defy the logic of Hooked on Phonics. It's one of the reasons that no matter how luminescently he performs, Dwyane Wade can never be my favorite player.

And Laveranues Coles? You can go to hell. You go straight to hell.