He lost the hat, though. Awww… The hats were cute. (But wait. According to TV, these outfits haven’t happened yet. Carry on. Nothing to see here.)

In case you were at work and didn’t watch the USA thrashing of Lithuania, mad ridiculous CP3/Wade give and go dunk in four… three… two… one…

Yesterday I said of Chris Paul, “He’s pretty much been all over the U.S. in the last two weeks. Where will he go tomorrow? No one knows.”

Well, it’s tomorrow. Here’s your answer.

Right here. For four more years. [Edit: Oh, and press conference audio here.]

Chris Paul at LeBron’s camp in Akron… at Essence… in Vegas with Team USA… and, um, at Disney with some blogger’s cousin.

So… he’s pretty much been all over the U.S. in the last two weeks. Where will he go tomorrow? No one knows.

ABC news reporting that Chris Paul’s agent will be in town tomorrow to finalize his new deal, which is “at least” four years, possibly five.

Link here.

And now on Nola.com.

Going from $4.5 million to $15 million? Now that’s some dolla bills, y’all.

The Times Picayune is reporting that CP is going to make the cut for the USA Olympic roster that will be announced Monday. It’s not exactly official, but the T.P., whatever other failings they may have, is usually right about stuff like this. It would have been an egregiously bad decision if they didn’t take the point guard who just had one of the best seasons in history. There shouldn’t have even been a discussion about it. Jason Kidd is practically mummified. After Billups pulled out earlier this week, enough spots were freed up so that Deron and CP could both go. But the article is also saying Tyson didn’t make the roster, despite having played last summer. Hey now. That sucks.

Congrats to Chris!

(And, self-servingly and unpatriotically, don’t get hurt, don’t get hurt, don’t get hurt, don’t get hurt…)

P.S. Oh, holla! My banner ad up top is now repping Hornets gear! Smart ad.

I take you back to May 24, 2005.

Here’s the thread in which everyone on Hornets Report freaks out when the Hornets get the #4 pick after concluding their 18-64 season. See, and you didn’t think anything could make you feel better today. “Noooo the franchise is cursed!!” It’s funny in retrospect.

Because we all know what happened next. But just for history’s sake, you can watch the video of Chris Paul being selected by the Hornets at #4.

No one knew then that that #4 pick would turn out to be the best thing to happen to the Hornets. Chris Paul wasn’t supposed to fall to #4. They weren’t supposed to get that pick.

Or maybe they were.

The ping pong ball that saved the New Orleans Hornets.

(P.S. The Chicago Bulls, with a 1.7 percentage chance, just got the #1 pick minutes ago. Conspiracy theorists, have at it…)

Coach Scott: With the regular season over, I imagine that you’re feeling a bit like Alice. Tumbling down the rabbit hole?

Chris Paul: You could say that.

Coach Scott: I can see it in your eyes. You have the look of a man who accepts what he sees because he’s expecting to wake up. Ironically, this is not far from the truth. Do you believe in fate, Chris Paul?

Chris Paul: No.

Coach Scott: Why not?

Chris Paul: ‘Cause I don’t like the idea that I’m not in control of the game.

Coach Scott: I know exactly what you mean. Let me tell you why you’re here. You’re here because you know something. What you know, you can’t explain. But you feel it. You felt it your entire life. That there’s something missing from the game. You don’t know what it is, but it’s there. Like a splinter in your mind–driving you mad. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I’m talking about?

Chris Paul: The Playoffs?

Coach Scott: Do you want to know what they are?

Chris Paul: [nods his head]

Coach Scott: The Playoffs are everywhere, they are all around us thanks to David Stern. Even now, in this very room (although for the love of Zion do not watch the Celtics-Cavs series– it’s just plain ugly). Once you understand the NBA Playoffs you will see them when you look out your window, or when you open a newspaper. You will feel them when you have your days off or when you fall asleep or when you pay your considerable taxes. They are the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.

Chris Paul: What truth?

Coach Scott: That experience does not matter, Chris Paul. They would have you believe that like everyone else, you were born into bondage, born inside a prison that you cannot smell, taste, or touch–until, of course, you have been there. [long pause, sighs] Unfortunately, no one can be told what the NBA Playoffs are. You have to see them for yourself. This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. [In his left hand, Coach Scott shows a blue pill]

Chris Paul: [Watches Coach Scott patiently]

Coach Scott: You take the blue pill and the story ends. You wake in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. [a red pill is shown in his other hand] You take the red pill and you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.

Chris Paul: [Long pause; Chris Paul begins to reach for the red pill]

Coach Scott: Remember–all I am offering is the truth, nothing more.

Chris Paul: [Chris Paul takes the red pill and swallows it with a glass of water]

Coach Scott: You have to let it all go, Chris Paul. Fear, doubt, and disbelief. Free your mind.

Chris Paul: What will happen to me?

Coach Scott: You are The One, Chris Paul. You see, you may have spent the last few years looking for me, but I have spent my entire life looking for you.

Chris Paul: But I’m not the one with “Chosen One” tattooed on my back.

Coach Scott: That is irrelevant. I believe it is our fate to be here. It is our destiny. I believe this postseason holds, for each and every one of your teammates, the very meaning of our lives. This is a war and we are soldiers. What if by Tuesday we beat the Spurs? And the Lakers after that? What if then we take out the scabs from the Eastern Conference and that war is over and we and we alone were NBA Champions? Isn’t that worth fighting for? Isn’t that worth dying for?

Chris Paul: Dying?

Coach Scott: You are The One, Chris Paul.

Chris Paul: NBA Champions?

Coach Scott: That’s right. This very season.

Chris Paul: Whoa. [Pauses] Are you saying I can choose whether we win or lose?

Coach Scott: No. You’ve already made the choice. Now you have to understand it.

Chris Paul: No. I can’t do that. I won’t.

Coach Scott: Well, you have to.

Chris Paul: Why?

Coach Scott: Because you’re The One.

From the Times Picayune comes a sad story about a kid who died of cancer before he got his wish to see the Hornets play. He asked to be buried in his Chris Paul jersey. George Shinn sent flowers to the family and asked if he could help with funeral costs, and Chris Paul is going to write the kid’s name, Brian, on his shoes when he plays tonight. The article mentions that CP wanted to go to the funeral, but couldn’t because the Hornets have to travel. So, you know, if you weren’t already on board with the whole “Chris Paul is MVP and also a great guy” thing, you will be after you read this story.

Chris Paul doesn’t have to do the things he does. He could be indifferent. But he’s not. When I met him, he was polite and friendly– you could totally see how everyone says he’s a cool guy to be around. Hell, he’d watched all of his MVP videos and he knew exactly which one was ours. He didn’t have to care about this kid and his family, especially during the playoffs. But he did.

Speaking of CP3, this bit about what the various players did during the Game 1 Ring of Fire delay just goes to back up what I said about him in my Chris Paul Blog Day entry.

TNT had to awkwardly fill air time that they did not expect to occur (not their fault), so they performed the tried and true method of panning around the court and commenting on the players they saw. The cameras hit Tim Duncan, who sat on the bench with coach Greg Popovich, holding the skipper’s clipboard, drawing up fake plays that must have been hilarious by the way Popovich was laughing, and simply joking around. The cameras hit Bonzi Wells, who was having his own fun, showboating to the home crowd fans. But then the cameras hit Chris Paul, who simply stood there like mannequin, a steely gaze in his eyes that would have bordered on creepy had he been somebody who I met on the street. Chris Paul was not thinking about the hilarity of the situation at hand. He was not thinking about the crowd, nor was he thinking about the episode of Lost he had tivo’d, nor was he thinking about the ridiculously hot Hornets dancing squad, the Honeybees. He was thinking about basketball. Nothing else. Being a primary topic of discussion, TNT probably had Chris Paul on their cameras about four or five times, and he never lost that gaze.

More Hornets articles… Y’all know I love me some Bonzi. Here’s a nice article about him today from the San Antonio Express News. Damn, I wish I hadn’t read an article about Bonzi. It just reminds me how much I’d love a Red Bull right now. No joke.

And in case you missed it on Tuesday, there was a really sweet feature on David West and how he almost quit basketball after changing schools in high school.

Aaand I’ll probably be back in a couple hours with more stuff. Carry on, Buzz Nation.

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.