THE FATHER LIFE | the men's magazine for today's fathers

Back to the Future

By: Mark Havens
Image By: Sanja Gjenero
June 5, 2008

If you have ever subscribed to HBO, you know that they replay their monthly movies over and over. There are more repeats in Pac Man Jones's rap sheet.

Recently, we have been Kimbo Slice-smacked in the head with 2400 viewings of Judd Apatow's Knocked Up. It's Apatow's homage to parenthood via the one night stand without a rubber.

Don't get me wrong. The movie is funny.

Although I'm pretty sure I didn't need to memorize the dialogue by heart, I still can't get a silly analogy out of my head. There is one scene that makes me think of this year's NBA Finals.

The main character (Seth Rogen) is out to dinner and drinks with the ever-growing mother of his child (Katherine Heigl), her sister (Leslie Mann) and brother-in-law (Paul Rudd). The guys are having a great time busting everyone's stones and bonding while the girls are irrationally mad at the camaraderie and preparing themselves for a 2-on-2 battle.

After one-too-many Well drinks, Rogen releases his inner fear of parenthood with a juvenile pipe-dreamish Back to the Future reference. He wants Doc Brown coming back in the DeLorean time machine to rectify his mistake and keep his sperm safely behind bars. This leads to Mann blurting out that the guys should jump in their time machine, go back in time and just start dating each other (In some different, funnier language).

Rudd's hilarious response is, "Who needs a time machine?"

For years, I have been reminiscing about the great basketball of the 1980s, hoping for that quality of game to return and day dreaming about the days when it was Celtics-Lakers in the NBA Finals.

Who needs a time machine?

When the ball is tipped tonight, the childhood memories will come rushing back in High Definition.

I'll see Bird-Magic.

I'll see Kareem sky hooking over the Chief. Kevin McHale will be clotheslining Kurt Rambis in all his black-rimmed dorkiness.

Big Game James Worthy will be tomahawking the rim as if it owed him money.

Dennis Johnson will be knocking down more clutch shots than freckles on his face.

Michael Cooper will be pulling his tube socks over his head and aggravating Larry Legend. Jerry Sichting and Byron Scott will be knocking down 3-pointers while Greg Kite will be knocking down Lakers.

Rebounds will turn into outlet passes, the ball will get moved like a cue ball around a pool table and the scores will be in the 120s.

K.C. Jones and Pat Riley will play chess from the bench and Red will be alive to puff on his victory cigar.

Who needs a time machine?

Speaking of time, when the Celtics try to obtain their 17th championship banner and Kobe Bryant attempts to cement his legacy by winning a title without Shaquille O'Neal, coverage will start at 8:30 p.m. (EDT).

The images from above live in my head because they came at my most pure time of sports consumption. I was drinking those games up as a 7 and 9-year-old, and it's the reason I am still a Celtics fan.

How are the kids supposed to stay up for those games this year? Not only do they all start at that time, but the NBA decided to skip playing Saturday night in Game 2 for Sunday -- an hour after The Simpsons is over.

How are they going to create memories of Kevin Garnett stamping his Big Ticket on the Lakers? Or Kobe Bryant imposing his will with a smirk as he knows no one on the planet can guard him successfully for 48 minutes?

Doesn't David Stern think that the young boys and girls want to see Paul Pierce's pear-bodied spin move or Ray Allen's silky smooth jumper?

If I was still in school, I know I would be trying to persuade my parents to stay up to see Pau Gasol pass like a point guard, or Kendrick Perkins scowl at everyone including Brian Scalabrine's hairdresser.

Forget being sharp for Spelling class. Let the students learn how to spell Sasha Vujacic, Vladamir Radmanovic or Eddie House. Hey, I was in the slow group.

What they really need to find out is the ultra-quick Rajon Rondo can outplay the wily veteran Derek Fisher.

Why should kids have to drink Red Bull for lunch so that they can witness Doc Rivers flip a coin on his lineups? Or Phil Jackson whistle at a player like a dog ready to unload on the carpet?

There are new memories to be had.

The Celtics and Lakers are back.

Who needs a time machine?


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Back to the Future By: Mark Havens Image By: Sanja Gjenero June 5, 2008 If you have ever subscribed to HBO, you know that they replay their monthly movies over and over. There are more repeats in Pac Man Jones's rap sheet. Recently, we have been Kimbo Slice-smacked in the head with 2400 viewings of Judd Apatow's Knocked Up. It's Apatow's homage to parenthood via the one night stand without a rubber. Don't get me wrong. The movie is funny. Although I'm pretty sure I didn't need to memorize the dialogue by heart, I still can't get a silly analogy out of my head. There is one scene that makes me think of this year's NBA Finals. The main character (Seth Rogen) is out to dinner and drinks with the ever-growing mother of his child (Katherine Heigl), her sister (Leslie Mann) and brother-in-law (Paul Rudd). The guys are having a great time busting everyone's stones and bonding while the girls are irrationally mad at the camaraderie and preparing themselves for a 2-on-2 battle. After one-too-many Well drinks, Rogen releases his inner fear of parenthood with a juvenile pipe-dreamish Back to the Future reference. He wants Doc Brown coming back in the DeLorean time machine to rectify his mistake and keep his sperm safely behind bars. This leads to Mann blurting out that the guys should jump in their time machine, go back in time and just start dating each other (In some different, funnier language). Rudd's hilarious response is, "Who needs a time machine?" For years, I have been reminiscing about the great basketball of the 1980s, hoping for that quality of game to return and day dreaming about the days when it was Celtics-Lakers in the NBA Finals. Who needs a time machine? When the ball is tipped tonight, the childhood memories will come rushing back in High Definition. I'll see Bird-Magic. I'll see Kareem sky hooking over the Chief. Kevin McHale will be clotheslining Kurt Rambis in all his black-rimmed dorkiness. Big Game James Worthy will be tomahawking the rim as if it owed him money. Dennis Johnson will be knocking down more clutch shots than freckles on his face. Michael Cooper will be pulling his tube socks over his head and aggravating Larry Legend. Jerry Sichting and Byron Scott will be knocking down 3-pointers while Greg Kite will be knocking down Lakers. Rebounds will turn into outlet passes, the ball will get moved like a cue ball around a pool table and the scores will be in the 120s. K.C. Jones and Pat Riley will play chess from the bench and Red will be alive to puff on his victory cigar. Who needs a time machine? Speaking of time, when the Celtics try to obtain their 17th championship banner and Kobe Bryant attempts to cement his legacy by winning a title without Shaquille O'Neal, coverage will start at 8:30 p.m. (EDT). The images from above live in my head because they came at my most pure time of sports consumption. I was drinking those games up as a 7 and 9-year-old, and it's the reason I am still a Celtics fan. How are the kids supposed to stay up for those games this year? Not only do they all start at that time, but the NBA decided to skip playing Saturday night in Game 2 for Sunday -- an hour after The Simpsons is over. How are they going to create memories of Kevin Garnett stamping his Big Ticket on the Lakers? Or Kobe Bryant imposing his will with a smirk as he knows no one on the planet can guard him successfully for 48 minutes? Doesn't David Stern think that the young boys and girls want to see Paul Pierce's pear-bodied spin move or Ray Allen's silky smooth jumper? If I was still in school, I know I would be trying to persuade my parents to stay up to see Pau Gasol pass like a point guard, or Kendrick Perkins scowl at everyone including Brian Scalabrine's hairdresser. Forget being sharp for Spelling class. Let the students learn how to spell Sasha Vujacic, Vladamir Radmanovic or Eddie House. Hey, I was in the slow group. What they really need to find out is the ultra-quick Rajon Rondo can outplay the wily veteran Derek Fisher. Why should kids have to drink Red Bull for lunch so that they can witness Doc Rivers flip a coin on his lineups? Or Phil Jackson whistle at a player like a dog ready to unload on the carpet? There are new memories to be had. The Celtics and Lakers are back. Who needs a time machine?