One would have thought that the midnight kickoff last night would have involved pyrotechnics, levitations, clouds parting to reveal the glorious heavens as angels get their wings. Alas: All we heard was some guy vomiting outside our apartment. (Come on, man, it's a freaking Wednesday night.) Anyway: Everyone's a free agent now. But nothing has really happened.
All right, that's not exactly true. First off, some "mystery executive" speaking in "broken English" (but not Mikhail Prokhorov) dropped off a package for LeBron outside his house just before midnight. (We are not sure this wasn't Isiah Thomas trying to recruit LeBron to play for Florida International.) That place is gonna look like O.J.'s house by noon today, if not earlier.
In actual, real player-movement news: Well, no one has signed yet, but Joe Johnson, the Green Lantern of the free agent Justice League, appears close to signing a max contract to stay with the Hawks, which takes him off the market before the Knicks even got to put forth their supposed crazy plan. That's one less player on the market for all these teams to buy, which, once again, brings everything back to LeBron or Bust. Also, Pat Riley met with Amar'e Stoudemire shortly after midnight last night to "make a presentation," and you know how that goes; Riley will have sold him several cars and trademarked the apostrophe in Stoudemire's first name before Amar'e realizes what's going on.
It's going to be a crazy day, if by "crazy" you mean, "lots of people guessing things but nothing really happening." Which is crazy, we suppose.