Brett Edwards thinks David West needs to stop running his mouth.

Hardwood Paroxysm says he’s doing exactly what he’s supposed to be doing.

What does HornetsHype think? Well, I think we know I love all things David West. Some guys talk trash and don’t have anything to back it up with. Like Rafer Alston running his mouth. Was Rafer Alston at the All Star Game this year? Did Rafer Alston drop 30 on the Spurs? But D West can back up his talk with an All Star season, and he was pretty damn steady last year too. Usually when people complain about a guy being a punk, it’s because he’s, well, just a punk. And hell, I think half the time West doesn’t even talk… he just looks. Now, granted, he is a large dude who likes to be 3-6 inches from your face when he’s looking…

I loved D West getting up in Dirk’s face in Game 1 because it sent a message: “We are not gonna lie down for you. Get used to it.” That’s why I don’t mind that Bonzi Wells is a guy who’ll come in off the bench and drop a flagrant on Bruce Bowen (I’m not in denial here– he totally hit him. I’m 100% positive he did hit him. The reason no one clapped when Bowen got up is not because New Orleanians are assholes, but because he’s a big fat faker. He was so injured by Bonzi’s hit that he had to flail about on the floor for 3 minutes and then was fine 2 seconds later. Yeah.) And I certainly don’t mind if D West claps in your guy’s face, rocks his angry look, taps you, bitchslaps you, or gets real, real close, and talks real sweet and quiet while gazing into your eyes. Because we love it. And since we’re the new kid in the playoffs, we need it.

We’re gonna go with Beast of Beasts.

This is my post for Chris Paul Blog Day (check out my co-blogger, ticktock’s, post here). To read the roundup of the rest, check out At the Hive.

This year, we haven’t just watched a young player get good. We haven’t just watched a good player get great. We’ve witnessed the birth of a legend. It’ not just his averaging 20/10/2.7, something no one’s ever done. It’s not just his starting his playoff career averaging 30/10/3.5, something no one’s ever done. It’s how he does it.

It’s the fire in his eyes, the quick anger he quickly tempers into crafty moves and adroit down-court rushes. It’s the fist pumped in the air under the thunder roar of 18,000 people as he wills his team to victory. And not just on the night he feels like playing. It’s time and time again. Night in and night out. He takes no games off, no plays off. He never surrenders. He’s the one pleading with his coach to stay in the game when he feels the game slipping away, he’s the one sacrificing his body for every point, yet he’s also the first one off the bench roaring in support of his teammates when they make a play. He’s someone about whom we’ll be telling stories to the next generation long after he’s walked away from the game.

Moreover, it’s what he does off the court as much as on. It’s his growing reputation around the league as someone who respects everyone around him. It’s an old school mentality in a new world. It’s the handshake to the opposing team’s arena crew, the high-fives to the people sitting courtside; it’s the smile on his face as he presents the game ball with a wide-eyed twelve-year-old.  And having met him and spoke to him, I know it’s not just conjecture.  He’s just as genuine with a random fan as he is with is own friends.

And at the end of the day, it’s that heart that lifts him. That lifts a city. That prove everyone who doubted wrong.  There are players in the league who will win scoring titles and other individual hardware, but not all of them have the heart to make everyone around them better and to be one with the game.   That takes someone special. It takes the heart of a champion.

It takes someone like Chris Paul.

This is my post for Chris Paul Blog Day (just in case my co-blogger mW decides to put up his own later). To read the roundup of the rest, roll on over to At the Hive.

First off, I’d like to send out a big “Happy Birthday!” to Chris Paul, who turns 23 today. When I turned 23, I was spending the summer sailing, getting a tan, and being generally useless, having just quit law school. Chris Paul? Is spending his 23^rd birthday in a second round series against the defending NBA champions.

In fact, the Hornets’ second consecutive 18+ point victory over the Spurs wrapped up about half an hour before the clock struck midnight, ringing in said birthday. Chris Paul racked up 30 points and 12 assists. The Hornets went up 2-0 in the series. The Spurs will be hearing “Woooo!” in their sleep tonight and, possibly, all the long, humid months of the Texas summer.

Some people thought this column yesterday was premature. I wonder what they think today.

Maybe the Spurs will be energized at home. Maybe they’ll figure out the Hornets’ defense. Maybe they’ll find solutions for CP3’s freewheeling, D West’s consistent excellence from anywhere on the floor, Peja’s threes, and Tyson’s domination of the boards. Maybe.

I don’t know.

But it’s looking more and more like, Where “This Is Our Time” Happens.

There was a point during this season, I don’t remember when. We were watching the Hornets on CST, and we’d gone into the kitchen to get a few Abitas. I can’t recall which routine display of Chris Paul amazingness it was. But I remember that I turned to mW and asked, “So I haven’t been watching basketball very long, but… 10 years from now, when they’re talking about this season, are we going to be saying, ‘We saw that. We were there’? We are, aren’t we?”

“Short answer: yes,” he said.

It’s the funny thing about these superlative New Orleans nights. You know we’re so spoiled by Chris Paul that we’ll say, “Oh, CP had a crap night– 16 points and 11 assists.” And the irony is usually lost on us that most teams’ point guards would kill for Chris Paul’s crappy night. And it’s hard to realize, on a game by game basis, when you’re used to seeing it, that what you’re watching is the future unfolding. Sometimes you’ll get a glimpse, you’ll get those shivers. But it’s easy to forget that, this year at least, the revolution was not televised. It’s easy to forget that what we’ve felt in flashes, in glimpses? Most of America is just getting it for the first time.

But I’m going to tell you something else about CP3 that Hornets fans know.

Last spring Chris Paul, who is friends with LeBron James, sat courtside during the Cavs’ playoff run. And as he watched, he realized that anything less than this was not going to be good enough for him. And he’s brought that, from Day 1 of this season.

Have you watched Chris Paul? Have you watched his face?

You should. Because those are not the eyes of someone who’s content with taking things as a learning experience. Those are not the eyes of someone who’s thinking, “As long as we get into the playoffs and make a good showing in the first round, it’s a huge step of progress over last season.”

They’re the eyes of someone who’s been waiting for this his whole life.

If you believe one thing about Chris Paul, believe that.

Because someone mentioned it last week… the New Orleans Globetrotters! I was at this game. There was a long timeout due to the net being ripped during a stunt, but instead of everyone having a fit over it a la The Ring of Fire, the players started clowning around. I wish they’d gotten JuJu going crazy to “Jump On It” and Josh Childress trying to lick Tyson Chandler, but alas, those gems seem to have gone untelevised.

……… WOOO!

If you were at the game Saturday night and missed the TNT broadcast, here are the WIRED segments for that night’s games:

http://broadband.nba.com/cc/playa.p…ank&nbasite=nba

Of special note? Byron Scott’s pre-game words to the team. He’s got his Lakers rings laid out on the table in the locker room, in their little velvet boxes. “It’s pretty simple,” he says. “This is what they got. This is what we want. We have a chance to do something real special this season. We do. This is another team that’s, basically, in our way.”

Let’s take them out of the way.

This one goes out to you & the rest of the TNT broadcasting crew. In case you need some NEW COLORS…

And Game One’s in the books, ladies and gentlemen.

Down 4 at halftime, the Hornets came out and owned the second half. David West dropped 30, and as David West goes, so go the Hornets. And so they went, totally shutting down Tim Duncan and forcing him into the worst game of his playoff career. Tyson Chandler destroyed on the boards. Peja was Peja (plus 18,000 or so smiley extra Pejas who also happened to be in the building). And on the night he lost the MVP award to Kobe Bryant, Chris Paul was rewarded with a thundering M-V-P chant in the fourth quarter. Because tonight 18,000 people knew better.

You know, there are a lot of people saying, “Who are the Hornets? Who the hell is David West anyway? Nobody.” No playoff experience, no mental toughness, no bench. No this and no that. No fans to care.

And then there are the people saying, “Chris Paul is great, but next year. This team should show some respect to ______. This team isn’t for real yet.”

Why should we expect this team to beat the seasoned playoff warriors of the decade? Why should we think this team deserved to be at the top of the West? Why the Hornets?

OK, you know what?

Answer me this question, tonight: Why not the Hornets? And why not now?

Okay. So as ticktock has astutely pointed out, the critics say we’re going to lose. The faces on our tickets say otherwise.

In the regular season and playoffs the Hornets are 9-2 when CP is on the ticket face (game 1), 6-0 when D-West is on the ticket (game 2), 4-1 when Peja is on the ticket (game 5), although only 2-3 when Mo is on the ticket face (game 7).

What does this say?

It says we can expect to win games 1, 2, and 5. So if we steal ONE game in San Antonio, the series is ours. And as I’ve already gone on the record as saying, we’re going to fucking win if it is game 7 at home.

So there it is.

Only Hollingers’s stat machine thinks the Hornets will win. Just the way we like it…

Also, why is it pitch black in NOLA at 8:30 AM? Is the world about to end? Is it a sign? More importantly, are the Spurs waking up at their hotel and wondering if this is the apocalypse? (Silly Spurs… they don’t know that the apocalypse has already happened. New Orleanians know. We were there.)