Hey guys, I'm over in New York doing really nothing at all, and I decided to stroll over to Rockefeller Center, in hopes of maybe running into Conan O'Brien and accosting him into giving me an autograph.  Unfortunately, that never happened.  On the other hand, I found a rally for Team USA Basketball going on instead.  The whole team was there, but I had the nasty luck to show up for only the last introduction - Tayshaun Prince.  Still, the team seems to have great chemistry, as you could see guys like Deron Williams and Chris Paul joking during the PR events.

The spectacle itself was silly, as it involved a game of USA (A patriotic version of HORSE) for a pair of shoes for a section of kids from the inner city.  Why Nike didn't give shoes to both sides, I'll never know.  Those have always been my favorite kind of charity competitions.  Both sides don't know they'll win, but then afterwards, they both get prizes.  It's the pride that counts, right?

At the rally, Portland was well-represented, as I saw a few fans with Oden jerseys, and then there were my manic screams for Nate.  If only The Marcus was there today.

I'll update this further when I go to the NBA Store, and see what kind of representation the Blazers have there in comparison to, say, the Milwaukee Bucks or the Oklaseattle Sonics.

Update:

The NBA store is a concrete-made-to-look-like-marble mammoth on Fifth Avenue in New York, across the street from a Salvatore Ferragamo flagship and down a block from the main locations of The Gap and Zara.  It fits in nicely, as everything is a hue of gray due to the area receiving sunlight for about one hour a day because of the monstrous buildings.  You're welcomed in with an HR Giger-esque revolving door that has the disembodied arms of Michael Jordan in place of bars on the door for pushing.

Inside, you immediately see what you expect: Knicks merchandise and Boston merchandise (They're the champs after all).  As you go around the top/first floor, you get the range of normal touristy stuff: Adidas apparel, T-shirts that just say "NBA Store" for $35, (Nice, David Stern) and for a comedic break a small WNBA section.  I have no right to expect the Blazers up here, because, after all, we weren't even in the playoffs this year, although we had an all-star.

Downstairs is where I expected our players represented to a degree that was at least proportionate to the rest of the league.  After all, the Blazers were #7in attendance last year.  What do I find?  An Oden jersey displayed proudly as soon as I got down there.  Joy flooded my body, a home three thousand miles away from home, they have our guy.  Then I look at the jerseys surrounding him.  Zach Randolph.  Ugh.  Then I wonder, where's Brandon Roy.  Oh, he's tucked in the back, behind a ladder.  I guess he was only an All-Star and there's valuable space needed for those Eddy Curry jerseys.

Still, the most disgusting part of this excursion came when I was looking through the t-shirt section.  Here, there are a bunch of shirts with the retro logo of NBA teams.  You know the type: Washington Bullets, cursive Chicago, the skyline of Seattle for the Supersonics.  I was excited here.  I finally had a souvenir from the NBA store - a retro Portland logo t-shirt, our proud pinwheel turned vertical.  I looked all around.  It wasn't there.

"Where are the Blazers shirts?" I asked a nearby employee folding Nets shirts.

"Uh, we have the Bullets shirts over there."

"Yes, I know, but where are the Trailblazers?"

"I told you, the Bullets are over there."

"Yeah, I know, but the Bullets are the Wizards now.  I mean, the Blazers, you know, from Portland?"

"Oh!"

"So do you have them?"

"No."

Thus ended my search for an interesting Blazers shirt.  At least it should have, but I still pressed on!  I rifled through the area and found something of immaculate wonder: a back of a shirt with the number 22 and the word "DREXLER" spelled above it.  Here it was I found it.  I quickly unfolded it, to hold up against myself in that neutered form of trying on clothing.  As the front revealed itself, a lump of sausage pizza rose from my stomach.  It read "Houston Rockets."  According to the NBA, Clyde Drexler isn't a Blazer.

I take away one lesson from my experience at the NBA store.  We have every right to gloat and Pritch-slap whoever we damn please.  The NBA gives us no respect, so we should be just as disrespectful to them.  They don't care what happens in Portland.  One of the league's biggest success stories, and they're thrown behind a ladder.  We must continue with our pride.  The French have a phrase for this (ask Batum) "Je m'en fous."  It translates roughly to "I don't give a damn" (although slightly worse).  This should be our motto.  This makes me think more that Blazers really our team and not meant for anyone else.  If people find them, excellent, the more the merrier, but the NBA sure isn't going out of its way to let customers or employees know we exist.