A Highly Personal All-Star Weekend Viewing Guide

All-Star Weekend. It has been called, by no less an authority than Michael Wilbon, the "black Christmas." Or maybe 'twas "black Thanksgiving." An important qualifier to these stirring pronouncements -- Wilbon doesn't seem to think much of the ASG itself, much less Rookie/Soph, the Dunk Contest, or that newly-minted mystery and rock of befuddlement, H.O.R.S.E.

That's why he's on television and I type these columns from a hole deep underneath a nuclear test sight in a country that shouldn't have one now. Take me now, if you dare!

And with that, I've done gone and painted myself into a dreadful corner. All-Star Weekend is amazing! It's about basketball as pure fun! We get to see interactions, on and off-court dynamics, and just flat-out flair that, with good reason, get constrained by the regular season workplace. For time beyond decades, I've faithfully watched this thing from beginning to end, despite the big V-Day, and now a wife whose birthday falls on 2/14. Brutal, I know. To whom -- that's your call.

This year, though, I don't feel the same. The same consecrated vapors do not rise off of this coming weekend of programming. I kind of want to pay attention to my wife's birthday. I don't see this whole thing as part of my job responsibility. I remember how terribly protracted Saturday night can be. Therefore, I hereby present The Official Bethlehem Shoals Viewing Guide to All-Star Weekend, with the caveat that if you're in Dallas, there's a really awesome Italian restaurant (that calls itself "Egyptian") you should find time to hit.

(Footnote commentary from Tom Ziller)

Friday Night: Ah, the Rookie/Sophomore Challenge. Traditionally, or at least in the tradition with which I worship, this is the marquee event of the weekend. In fact, last week Zillz and I took time to celebrate all that has been great and unique in The Challenge, as I like to call it. Those were some really banner moments. I'm happy to hear that all participants have arrived safely, which was a major question mark hanging over this year's edition, but I'm still on the fence. I might DVR it and go see Blue Collar for the third time.

Friday begins with the Celebrity Game, which in an earlier draft of this I had confused with the Shooting Stars event. Judge me as thou wilt. Anyway, it would only be funny if Tracy Morgan were involved and they mic'ed him up, or maybe they did something with it like CBS did -- and I promise I'm not making this up -- celebrity skiing competition that was mostly about J.B. Smoove and Larry David bickering and/or learning to ski.

Why? There's no undermatched soph who could make the sky fall down, as Kevin Durant did last year. Derrick Rose was the most likely candidate, but he'll be sitting this one out to save his strength for the real thing. That means more Russell Westbrook; however, as incendiary a performer as Westbrook can be, few sights make my heart sink like watching him dart to the hoop and then blow the easy finish. This is not a night that should remind us of man's limitations and ultimate futility.

* Ziller: But the spirit of Rookie Challenges past may turn Westbrook into a pure point guard for a night. Won't that be a sight! I foresee our young Thunderer go up for a breakaway dunk only to leave a drop-off pass for Michael Beasley.

The Rookies, aka Point Guard Central, could trot out a zillion-guard line-up of Tyreke Evans, Brandon Jennings, Jonny Flynn, and Stephen Curry. Something tells me we won't get this in full. Also, without Ty Lawson and Rodrigue Beaubois, it just doesn't feel the same. Not picking both Lopez Brothers was a major miss, too. I have an idea: Why not pool first and second-year players, and make it bigs versus smalls? The Sophs win every year anyway, so it's not like the legitimacy of the game would be spoiled. Oh, and if DeMar DeRozan doesn't beat out Eric Gordon in this dunk-off, I don't know much about basketball.

* Ziller: Gordon has promised something we've never seen before. So baked goods are right out. I'm stoked to see what the second-littlest dunker has in store.

Saturday: I have to watch this H.O.R.S.E, if nothing else because I declared it a corrupt publicity stunt that besmirched the honor of my people. More importantly, this will be Durant's weekend once and for all, and I never pass up a chance to watch him when he feels like there's something to prove.

And then, silence. Yes, for the sake of domestic tranquility (Olympics-themed birthday party), and my own fatigued body and mind, I'm DVR-ing that night's festivities, and will flip through it at my leisure.

* Ziller: HERETIC!

I'm sorry, I really am, but the Skills Challenge is one big tease, like that time some famous actress posed semi-nude in a reputable magazine but it was all over the internet as if it were smut. Shooting Stars is the number one reason for the Saturday chasm effect, though it does allow the world to be reminded of the WNBA's existence. I have tried many times to feel history rising up in my chest when someone goes bonkers in the Three-Point Shootout, but have now decided this it's a false god made to encourage gambling.

* Ziller: If Chris Webber has a good afternoon at the poolside bar, he can fill Tracy's shoes. Give cognac a chance.

Ah, the Dunk Contest. You would think, given my preference for young, crazy basketball, that I'd like the recent contests, where cult-ish players get a chance to really prove .... well, that's the problem. Gerald Green's Birthday Cake dunk was easily top five of all-time, and a lot more inspiring than any technically perfect, post-Vince Carter moves that Jason Richardson won his two crowns with. But it was performance art, and honestly, how many players have that kind of high-concept gimmick up their sleeve? Not to say they're stupid, or maybe just look to cater to stupid fans, but Dwight Howard, Nate Robinson, and Josh Smith set a precedent for prop dunks that badly needed (better) writers.

I've said this before, but Andre Iguodala's behind-the-backboard marvel was one of the last dunks we've seen that combined gimmick with technical impossibility. But he got robbed, and history marched on along two distinct paths: Technical feats that can't match Carter or Richardson, or skits ending in dunks that will never match the Birthday Cake.

Gerald Wallace is one of my absolute faves in this league, and I'd prefer to not see him degraded this way. Actually, the only other time I've missed the Dunk Contest was in 2003, when Amare Stoudemire was first asserting his brand of holy terror throughout the league. I hadn't given up yet then, but had an inkling that I'd rather sit this one out. I'm interested to see what Shannon Brown does, not because I expect him to shift the planet, but because he seems more like an in-game dunker, not a born acrobat. Though who knows, maybe he revives the spirit of 2000 Steve Francis. Whatever, Nate Robinson would still be shorter.

* Ziller: Everyone I know watches the dunk contest for the non-participant reaction these days, with Caron Butler's mimicry of Birthday Cake a recent highlight. Let's hope something Crash pulls out makes Dwyane Wade's bowtie spin. Also, I fully expect any potential Wallace championship being met with an updated Montral Screwjob. Wheel of Stupidity, never forget!

The Main Event: The older I get, the more things fall into place and perspective takes hold. As funny, geeky, and lore-ish as some of the other stuff is, the game itself is the one that has the chance to endure. Not all the time, but there is such a thing as an All-Star Game that really pulls you in. I know there are quite a few folks out. Look, though, if this comes down to a LeBron James/Kevin Durant shoot-out for all the marbles, with Kidd and Billups wisely directing the action, I'll feel like I've watched something real.

As backward as this might sound, that's what we really want from ASW: Proof that the NBA can be turned inside-out on itself and still come out on the other side with something that's not totally fleeting and silly.